


Koi no Yokan

by moimiles



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Fashion AU, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, designer!yuuri, model!victor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moimiles/pseuds/moimiles
Summary: Yuuri is a somewhat known designer who dropped everything after a disastrous show. Almost a year later, he starts casting models for his new collection and world famous model Victor Nikiforov shows up, wanting to be a part of the show regardless of how much he gets paid.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know barely nothing about Japan or Russia so that's why it's set in New York, just to make things a lil easier!! Bear with me!!

Yuuri Katsuki always thought that home was where the heart is – and that’s not necessarily just one single place. He had a home in Japan - the house in which he grew up, the Ice Castle, and the hot springs … Those were all synonyms of home to him. However, Yuuri had a home in New York as well. And there was no better feeling in the world than coming home.

He smiled at his apartment. Everything was exactly in the same place as he left it six months ago; there was a thin layer of dust that would probably be a bitch to clean, but that didn’t matter right now. He dropped his bags to the floor and walked to his room – it was silly, but there was a part of him that wanted to see every room to see if it still existed.

Yuuri had returned to Japan for the first time in five years six months ago. He felt defeated. Drained, even. He had spent months of his life on a collection and the release was an absolute disaster. Clothes fell apart, models fell on the runway, and the critics were harsh on the Japanese designer. He’d always known he had an anxiety problem, but it got bad to a whole new level – that wasn’t something he liked to think about.

Back then, he had no idea if he wanted to carry on with his brand. It was a very hard decision; on one hand, he could have a quiet life working at the hot springs. On the other, he’d drop everything he fought tooth and nail to get. He knew he could never quit when he kept on sketching and designing even when he was supposed to take a break.  
Yuuri threw himself on his bed, smiling at the ceiling. Maybe this time around it’d be different. He was feeling very refreshed and inspired. He had a general outline for a new collection. He promised himself to try again before giving up on his dreams. There was still a lot he could do, he felt. Maybe there was something waiting for him out there. Maybe something good would happen.

Maybe.

Yuuri got out of bed and walked to his sewing room. His apartment was a little too big for him – a spacey two room apartment for a single man in New York – so he turned the guest room into a sewing room. He had a small shop for when he was working with models but here was where the magic really happened. Yuuri smiled at the countless hours he spent sitting at his desk, sketching the hours away. His old sewing machine was not half as good as the one he used for work, but it was the one he learned how to sew with; it had sentimental value.

There was a pile of fabric and rejected projects in the corner of the room. His bin was overloading with paper. The room looked like it witnessed a fabric war and survived to tell its terrifying story. That was a visual representation of how stressed he was – he was usually extremely organized.

“It was probably a good idea to take some time off.” He sighed.

After walking around the apartment, Yuuri made a mental list of things he needed to do. He was probably going to spend the next few days cleaning and tidying up his apartment – and he didn’t even see his shop yet. God, why didn’t he leave someone a key to try and keep his place somewhat in order?

Ah, yes. Because he ran to Japan as fast as he could.

Trying to keep a positive mindset, Yuuri grabbed a broom and started to clean up. Even though he felt that dreaded heavy feeling on his chest because of the pressure of cleaning everything and trying to get the apartment back in shape, Yuuri felt truly okay for the first time in a while.

 


	2. Shadow of my doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's casting day, and Yuuri is just about done with the models when Victor Nikiforov walks through the door wanting nothing in return for working for Yuuri.

Yuuri honestly thought nothing could surprise him anymore. He’d lived in New York for a long time, weird was just something he saw every morning on the subway. But that’s the thing with thinking that nothing can ever surprise you – when it does happen, it blows your mind.

He was working today; it was finally time to pick the models. Yuuri had both his fashion illustrations and the technical drawings in front of him, checking them constantly as he analyzed the models. Minako, his casting director, did all the speaking with the models for him. She asked them to present themselves and then walk for her – and then they were approved by both Minako and Yuuri, they got their pictures taken and were selected for the show.

Yuuri had gone through so many models, both male and female, that their faces were starting to blur together. The models had the annoying habit of coming to castings in all black, which made it more difficult for Yuuri. He had no idea how Minako did it, but he was glad he had someone to help him do it.

“I think we’re done here.” She sighed, stretching her arms. Yuuri yawned lazily.

“I still had some designs left, but I think we have a solid number.” He rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe the pain away. Maybe he had to get new lenses for his glasses. All the sketching and sewing was probably making his eyes suffer; not to mention the sleepless nights he spends on his costumes. His diet consisted of coffee and aspirins by now, but it was something he had grown to miss.

“I think so! I’m glad to be a part of your come back, Yuuri.” Minako smiled. “Well, I’m gonna get some coffee and then we can check the models pictures. And after that, you’re gonna get some food in you and go to bed.” Minako pointed her finger at Yuuri and he smiled a little.

As Minako walked away to get them some coffee, Yuuri flipped through his sketches, wondering which ones he’d have to drop. He was mentally matching the designs to the models he remembered – the ones he had worked before. JJ would look good in red, but then again, so would Phichit… Yuuri was too concentrated to notice just how overwhelmed Minako sounded when she got back:

“Uh, Yuuri?! We have another, uh, model.”

“I thought we were done with the models.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes again. He could feel himself pouting; there were no aspirins left on his bag and all he wanted was to go home and take a five hour nap.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

Yuuri looked up so fast he almost strained his neck. His jaw fell open and his eyes widened involuntarily. There are just some moments that even though our eyes are absolutely sure of what they are seeing, the brain is in complete denial of the image. It tries to make sense of the image; looking for possible explanations in the database stored, regardless of how realistic the picture appears to be.

Victor Nikiforov was standing right in front of him, in his shop, right next to his casting agent. For some reason, Victor was wearing a black wig – Yuuri had worked with wigs before, he could easily spot one out – and big sunglasses. He barely looked like himself; his signature silver hair was tucked away and the glasses covered most of his features. Yuuri felt like he had touched a power outlet when Victor took off the wig, flipping his silver hair away from his eyes. It looked a scene from a cheesy movie.

 Yuuri blinked a couple of times, mentally taking note that he really needed to go to an eye doctor if he got to the point of hallucination. Victor Nikiforov didn’t have one single reason to be in New York, let alone in his shop. Victor Nikiforov was the highest paid male model on Earth. He was a living legend in the fashion world, he worked for the big leagues and he was Yuuri’s inspiration ever since he was a child. Yuuri started designing costumes because of Victor. He got interested in the Fashion world because of that man. He never thought he’d see the man walking the runway, let alone walking into his shop.

He tried to find something that could prove that the man in front of him was not Victor, but it was impossible. He’d never mistake Victor for anyone – his stylish gray hair and stunning blue eyes were too much of a trademark. They were unique; one of the things that made Victor a success in the first place, that and the fact that he was a beast on a runway, not to mention what he could do in front of a camera.

“Yuuri?” Minako’s voice was miles away.

“I’m here to audition.” Victor said, taking off his glasses, and then the bastard smirked. Was it a joke? Would cameras pop out at any given minute? Yuuri could practically see the reporters yelling at him, or the video of him just looking stupid in front of his idol going viral. He could feel a knot forming in his chest; that was never a good sign.

“I can’t possibly afford you.” Yuuri blurted out a little too loud. He wanted to slap himself; his first words to Victor sounded like a poor business man trying to pay for an expensive hooker. Great first impression, Yuuri. Good job. He was seriously considering just getting up and just walking out. There was probably a flight to Japan around now, right? Maybe he should go somewhere exotic; South America was beautiful this time of the year, wasn’t it?

To his surprise, Victor just laughed.

“I don’t care about money, really.”

“Oh, so Chanel wasn’t paying you when you were in Paris a week ago?” Minako blurted, raising her eyebrows at the model. As soon as she realized what she said, a blush flooded her cheeks with color.

“They’re Chanel. They can afford me if they want me.” Victor shrugged as if being wanted by Chanel was something mundane and not a big deal at all.

“This doesn’t sound good, Yuuri.” Minako advised in a whisper, a smile plastered on her face to pretend she wasn’t talking about Victor. Yuuri was still in shock, honestly. His brain was yelling at him, trying to convince him to just run to the door and pretend this never happened. He could probably get his name changed somewhere, right?

“I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced.” Victor turned his icy glare to Minako and Yuuri was surprised she didn’t falter at all.

“I’m Minako. The casting agent.  Also Yuuri’s friend, and co-owner of Katsuki Designs.” She brushed her brown hair behind her ears.

“Well, Minako, I like the brand. There’s no mystery to it. I wanted to work for the previous show, but I was bound to a Givenchy contract.” He pressed his lips together. “Lord knows that was for the best, eh?” Victor teased with a smile and Yuuri prayed that the same Lord would come down personally and just kill him. Yeah, it was a pretty bad show, but he thought that it was behind him – but having his personal hero come down and tell it to his face was a whole new level of humiliation. His face was probably blood red by now and he was surprised that he hadn’t fallen off his chair yet.

“This might as well be another disaster. Do you want that in your resume, Victor?”

“Thank you, Minako. That sure helped a lot.” Yuuri mumbled. He was ready to accept death as it came; in the form of embarrassment. He cleared his throat and tried to look at Victor. He couldn’t stare the man in the eyes for the life of him, which was probably coming to an end. There was a sharp pang on his chest that even though he knew it was just because he felt anxious, his anxiety made him think he was having a heart attack.

“I’m not sure you fit the collection.” Yuuri explained. It wasn’t a lie. He could never imagine the real Victor Nikiforov wearing one of his designs. It would be like dressing a Michelangelo statue in a thrifted prom dress from the 80s.

“That’s just absurd!” Victor laughed. “What’s the theme?”

“Love.” Yuuri had to look away, and pretend he was blushing. He was probably entering beet red territories – which only made him feel more embarrassed. “Agape and Eros, romantic and sexual love respectively.” Yuuri turned his fashion illustrations sketchbook to Victor. He was certain that he would take a look at the concept art and just _laugh._ Yuuri in no way as talented as the designers Victor usually worked with. He had a pretty cool concept, but he was just one in millions on the fashion industry.

“Whoa.” Yuuri heard Victor whisper softly, almost unintelligible. Victor’s fingers touched his drawings softly, turning the pages as his blue eyes examined the sketchbook carefully. Here it comes, Yuuri thought. ‘Thank you, but no thank you’. This prank was going to end soon and he was mentally preparing himself. “This is beautiful, Yuuri.”

There it was-oh.

“What?”

“Okay, I propose we do the following.” Minako interrupted Victor before he could say anything. Yuuri dared to look at his face directly; Victor’s eyes were shining bright and blue. “We pay just as much as we would pay any of our other models. You take your pictures and you come to the fittings just like any other model. However, if you try to do anything to ruin Yuuri’s show, I will personally see that you regret it.”

“I believe you will.” Victor winked at Yuuri before following Minako to have his pictures taken. Yuuri, in the meanwhile, managed to fall off his chair. He hit the floor but had no energy whatsoever to get up; he was mortified. His anxiety was making his heart beat a million beats per minute and he could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“I’m just going to stay here.” He whispered to himself, hoping that the ground would swallow him whole and that he would just fade into the Earth. Or maybe this was just some crazy dream he was having while sewing the night away. Yuuri would wake up, his neck would be sore and his head would be hurting so much he’d have to dim all the lights in the apartment before going to bed. He’s had nights like that before, and it wasn’t like Victor wasn’t a current guess star of his dreams.

And yet… Lying on the floor, Yuuri couldn’t help but smile a little. It was ridiculous, really. Here he was, lying on the floor, trapped under a chair because Victor Nikiforov was in his studio. Yuuri got up from the floor feeling that cramp on his back getting a little worse. God, he missed the hot springs – there was nothing for his sore body.

Yuuri scolded himself as he closed the studio. He wasn’t thirteen anymore – if he was going to work with Victor, he’d have to be strictly professional. This whole blushing-drooling-blabbering mess thing was not going to work on his favor. He had to make things very clear in his head so he wouldn’t get too worked up over something small and ruin his comeback. Yuuri promised himself to be _normal_.

Normal went out the window when Victor and Minako walked into the room. Yuuri managed to nod at them without blushing – which was progress to him – but things got a little… Weird. As they all walked outside the shop together, Minako said her goodbyes, leaving Yuuri alone with Victor.

“Thank you.” Victor smiled as he put his big sunglasses back on. “I think this will be an enriching experience.”

Yuuri stopped to notice how Victor’s accent tended to get a little thicker on certain words. The Russian accent was easily identified with the way Victor said his R sounds. Yuuri liked to think he didn’t really have an accent, considering he’d lived abroad so long, but he was sure he still would butcher the pronunciation of a couple of sounds.

“Uh, are you staying anywhere near the shop?” Yuuri blurted out the first thing that came into his mind after noticing he took forever to reply. He was too busy analyzing Victor’s pronunciation, like that wasn’t embarrassing.

“Hopefully. Yuuri. Where do you live?” Victor placed a hand on his chin as he spoke, looking lost in his thoughts. His nose was a little pink because of the cold outside. There was a great chance of snow that night; Yuuri was hoping he’d get home early to avoid getting caught in the middle of it.

“J-just a few blocks away. It’s walking distance.”

“Great! Let’s go.” Victor smiled like a child.

“What!?!”

“I’m staying with you, do you have a spare bedroom? Also, which way should we go? Are we taking the subway?” Victor blabbered as if everything he was saying was obvious and Yuuri was silly for not considering the possibility that Victor was going to stay at his apartment.

“Y-you can’t stay at my apartment. And I do not.” Yuuri could feel the blush rising up his cheeks. “I have a sewing room.”

“I would not ask this if I had any other choices. I tried several hotels before coming to the casting, but they are all booked because of the upcoming Holidays.” Victor explained, hiding his face in his scarf as a wind blew past them. “That’s why I was late, by the way. I couldn’t find anywhere to stay.”

“Oh.” Yuuri tried to think rationally as he heard Victor’s explanation. “I-I don’t have a spare bedroom. I only have a sofa bed. I can’t offer it to you, it’s not very comfortable.”

“I suppose I could try something in Brooklyn.” Victor sighed. “Even though I doubt they’d let me check in at this hour.” He flicked his silver hair before carrying on. “Yuuri. I’m exhausted. I’m sorry to insist, but can’t I just sleep on your couch for one night?”

God, Victor was staring right into his soul. This was by no means something that Yuuri would have said yes to. He was tired to the bone, his apartment was a mess and this was Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri had let Minako crash at his couch countless times, but she was just like family. Victor was a world known supermodel. He was used to fancy hotels and king like treatment, not tiny apartments and bumpy couches.

But then… He remembered the snow that was supposed to come down that night. He thought about Victor roaming around the streets of New York alone and in the cold. It was just one night, right? Yuuri rubbed his eyes under his glasses before speaking.

“…Yes.”

“Perfect!” Victor exclaimed excitedly. “I want to get to know you, Yuuri. You know, build some trust into our relationship.” He explained. Yuuri took a few seconds and just started walking. Maybe if he didn’t say anything, Victor would just leave and Yuuri could move to South America. But then he heard Victor’s footsteps behind him and soon he had caught up.

As they walked home, Victor started rambling away. He talked about New York and the few times he had come to the city; a couple of Fashion Weeks here and there, as Victor put it informally. Yuuri listened to him carefully – he was scared that if he tried to do something other than nod, he’d embarrass himself. So he just shoved his hands on his pockets and avoided looking Victor in the eyes.

“May I ask you a question?” Yuuri mumbled as they got closer to his apartment. His hands were getting restless on his pockets, and he couldn’t help himself but try to engage in the conversation.

“Of course.”

“Do you get to know all the designers you work for?” Yuuri looked away as he spoke, pretending to stare at the dark clouds fogging the sky and not Victor on his peripheral vision.  

“Why?” Victor raised an eyebrow at Yuuri, as if daring him to answer him.

“I-I can’t imagine Karl Lagerfeld as someone you can get to know.” Yuuri confessed, a shy smile blooming on his lips. Victor laughed, his laugh echoing in the empty streets of New York. Yuuri felt his heart beat faster, but in a good way – he had never associated a fast heartbeat with something good.

“You’re right, but you will find that I can be very persuasive. I could have braided that man’s hair if I wanted.” Victor joked with a smile.

While his curiosity was genuine – the thought of Victor having a slumber party with the 83 year-old designer for Chanel was ridiculous – Yuuri also wanted to know _why_. Why him? Why would Victor choose him, his brand? Why would Victor want to get to know Yuuri?  What about his work was so interesting?

Victor had evaded that question too well, and Yuuri saw no other option than to let Victor crash at his place for the night. He hoped he didn’t come across rude when he said he couldn’t let him stay over. What if he sounded stuck up? God, there were so many thoughts flying inside Yuuri’s brain that he was almost getting dizzy from thinking too much.

It didn’t get much better when they got into an elevator. Victor was too close now. Yuuri had managed to keep the model from his personal space, but now there was no room but his personal space. It didn’t help that Victor turned to him. If Yuuri dared to look up, he’d have to face Victor, and he was certainly too tired for that.

Yuuri sighed in relief as they walked out of the elevator and felt just the tiny bit better as he opened the door to his apartment. There’s no feeling like coming home after all.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Yuuri mumbled. “Have you eaten? Would you like anything to drink?” He asked, feeling the role of host being trusted upon him. He could hear that tiny part of his brain yelling at him to be a good host or otherwise, Victor would be on the first flight away from him. It’d be a scandal – the media would have a field day with his second failure. Heck, he’d probably become a meme on the internet. He would just-

“Thank you, but I’d just like to rest. I am still in the French time zone. It’s the middle of the night for me.” Victor had gotten closer as Yuuri panicked, close enough to place a hand on Yuuri’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Every brain cell that previously was focusing on panicking was now focusing on blushing. Yuuri was suddenly too close to Victor. He didn’t dare to breathe. “I appreciate the thought.” Victor whispered.

That did.

Yuuri jumped away from Victor so fast he impressed himself. He blabbered something about getting Victor some sheets for his sofa bed while he ran away. Yuuri felt scared to be that close to Victor. He felt like an ordinary mortal meeting Apollo. His eyes would probably burn if he stared too long, and he quite liked his eyeballs, regardless of the headaches that he had constantly because of his glasses.

He wished he have had time to tidy the apartment up before Victor came. His sewing room was just as messy as it was when he came back from Japan – he cleaned it up, but it just kept getting messy and Yuuri got to a point he didn’t care anymore. Sighing, Yuuri grabbed clean sheets and some covers for Victor and his sofa bed. He tried not to think too hard about Victor Nikiforov sleeping on his sofa bed or he would start panicking all over again. Yuuri took a big breath before walking into the living room.

Yuuri couldn’t possibly have taken more than ten minutes to come back, but Victor was already sound asleep on the couch. It was a funny image, Yuuri thought to himself. Victor was clearly too tall for the couch, so his legs were hanging in the air. It didn’t look any comfortable, but Yuuri didn’t have the heart to wake him up. He was probably going to feel uncomfortable and get up – he had fallen asleep with his jeans and shoes on. Yuuri left the sheets and the blankets right next to Victor, and turned off the lights.

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you so so so much for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks on the prologue! I really appreciate them!  
> The chapter name comes from a song called Something's Gotta Give, by All Time Low.  
> I'm planning on updating every Thursday. If you have any questions or just want to yell about yoi, my twitter is @moimiles.  
> See y'all next week! <3


	3. Born to make history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What now?”  
> “Uh, I need to fix some small things but I was actually planning on working on some new costumes.”  
> “Can I watch?” Victor’s eyes gleamed. Yuuri furrowed his brows in confusion. Why on Earth would Victor want to watch? God, he was probably just going to groan and yell at his sketchbook for half an hour before he got something remotely interesting. There was no-  
> “Yuuri?”  
> “Why would you want to watch?”

Yuuri never got enough sleep when he was in the process of making a new collection. He would stay up too late sewing and adjusting the model’s outfits, wake up early to take new fittings, and then have meetings with the marketing team and promoters all afternoon. He liked it, really, but sometimes all he wanted was to sleep in.

So when his alarm rang loudly early in the morning, Yuuri couldn’t help but press snooze. He deserved an extra five minutes today; and to hell with those who said he didn’t. But then he pressed snooze again. And again. When he was about to press snooze for the fourth time, he finally had the guts to sit up. He could see the blurry outline of his room. Yuuri tried to rub the sleep away from his eyes as he yawned. Rubbing did nothing to improve his sight at all, so Yuuri grabbed his glasses from the nightstand.

He opened his wardrobe and grabbed the first things that his hands touched. Luckily, they matched – black jeans and a grey shirt. Finally, Yuuri managed to leave the room, walking like a zombie towards his kitchen. As he walked by the bathroom, Yuuri could hear the shower running and some obnoxious pop song playing from the inside. For a full second Yuuri just frowned at the door; he was so sleepy and tired his brain could not, for the life of him, understand what was happening. He was outside. Who was in the bathroom then?

And then it hit him. It hit him hard like a ton of bricks.

Victor was in his apartment. Victor was casted as one of his models. Victor was taking a shower listening to the most annoying little bubble gum pop song. Victor was _real_. Yuuri almost didn’t need coffee; he jumped away from the door, feeling wide awake as the memories from the night before came crashing down.

He stood there, wide eyes staring the closed bathroom door like a deer caught in Victor’s headlights. Yuuri had no idea what he was feeling; it was a mix of panic and overwhelming joy. How was this his life? He had the most influential model, a living legend of the fashion industry taking a shower on his apartment. Yuuri almost cracked up – it was almost funny, this whole situation.

And then the shower stopped running and Yuuri basically teleported into the kitchen because of how fast he ran away from the bathroom. His heart was racing when he arrived; both because of his run and the fact that Victor was probably leaving soon and he couldn’t bear the thought of trying to interact with Victor when he was this sleepy.

So Yuuri got to working and started brewing some coffee. He smiled a little as he made more that he needed to. He had no idea if Victor liked coffee, but he should be a good host and have enough to offer him. The man slept on his couch; he probably didn’t sleep very well. The smell of coffee was enough to bring Yuuri to a more awake state. It was a rich smell, that one, and he smiled a little while he got himself a mug from the cupboards. He was reaching for the artificial sweeteners when he heard Victor walk into the kitchen:

“Hello, Yuuri.”

“Good morni-” Yuuri turned midsentence to find Victor still in his towel. There were still water droplets all over his shoulders, glittering his skin with sparkles and his towel was hanging dangerously low. Yuuri heard the packet of artificial sweeteners hit the ground and he could feel his face heating up like it was set on fire. So Yuuri did what any rational person would do.

He ran out as fast as he could. He was lucky his bag and overcoat were by the door because otherwise he’d have run out into the freezing snowy morning with no money and no coat. As soon as the cold air hit his face, Yuuri regretted leaving.

I mean, it was always his standard to just run away whenever he was faced with situations he couldn’t handle, but this one made him anxious. What would Victor think of him? He was a terrible host. Victor would probably leave the show because of him; he’d probably drive him to it, considering how awkward and untalented he was and-

“Ugh!” Yuuri covered his face with his hands. It was too early for him to have an anxiety attack. So he tried to distract himself from the words bombarding his skull with pessimism by counting his steps as he walked. Soon he was able to feel the cold around him and smell the recently fallen snow in the air. He walked by a bakery and the smell of fresh bread made him walk inside.

It was a good idea, really. He could tell Victor he forgot to buy breakfast and he was extremely embarrassed about that, not the fact that his idol was half-naked and wet in front of him. Yuuri felt a smile creep up on his lips as he ordered a couple of bagels. He walked home counting his steps again and by the time he was back at the apartment, he felt much better.

“There you are.” Victor smiled as he walked in. The man was sprawled on his couch, thankfully fully dressed by now.

“I-uh forgot to buy food.” Yuuri could not look Victor in the eye. “I bought bagels.” He explained as he walked to the kitchen. The coffee was now ready and probably wasn’t scalding hot anymore. “I made some coffee, if you want.” He told Victor.

Victor walked into the kitchen again. He poured himself some coffee and ate his bagel plain. Yuuri thought it was odd how he was so comfortable at Yuuri’s apartment, as if he was at home. Maybe he travelled too much, Yuuri thought as he got some cream cheese from the fridge, so everywhere and anywhere was home to him. He frowned at that thought.

“So, Yuuri, what now?” Victor asked, taking a bite of his plain bagel.

“What now?” Yuuri raised his eyebrows at the model. “What do you mean?”

“The whole show thing.” Victor smiled. “What comes after casting?”

“Uh, Victor, ha-haven’t you gone through this process a million times?” Yuuri took a sip of his coffee.

“Yes, but I want to hear it from you.”

“Oh. Uh. We have the fitting with the models, but that’s a few days away.” Yuuri explained, trying to remember what was the date today and when he and Minako had scheduled the fittings. God, he needed more coffee.

“Oh!” Victor exclaimed, his blue eyes shimmering with excitement. “What am I going to wear?”

That was a good question. Yuuri was pretty proud of his collection so far, it was probably his best work, yet… This was Victor. He could have designed a collection bathed in gold and encrusted with diamonds and it would not be worthy of having Victor wear it – at least Yuuri thought so. He should probably design something new for him.

Victor had this gender fluid beauty – Yuuri thought of Victor’s long hair era, and almost let out a sigh. Well, he _was_ working with Eros and Agape. Yuuri couldn’t help but think about Eros, the cupid in the Greek mythology. He was the son of Aphrodite, and as far Yuuri could remember, he was sometimes portrayed as a chubby baby but sometimes he was portrayed as a _man_. Yuuri felt a rush of inspiration hit him, and he finished his bagel in two bites.

“Can I see your sketches again?” Victor asked when he had no answer to his previous question.

“Sure, let’s go to the sewing room.” Yuuri got up, bringing his mug with him. If he was going to sketch something new to Victor, he was going to need coffee. And probably some pain killers – he was either ending his day with a headache or some kind of tendinitis. But honestly, Yuuri felt almost giddy. He loved when inspiration hit him like a truck; it made him feel the need to work regardless of what was happening around him.

However, as soon as he walked out of the kitchen, Yuuri remembered exactly how his sewing room looked. He thought of all the posters of Victor plastered on his walls, the amount of outfits the designer had recreated or made inspired by the man hanging around. He was pretty sure he had at least two cushions with Victor’s face embroidered into them. Oh God, he had a bunch of quotes from Victor’s interviews on his walls as well.

And Victor was about to walk into that nightmare. _Well, this is it_ , Yuuri thought. _This is how I die._ He was going to die of embarrassment in about fifteen seconds. Yuuri wished he had the time to call his mom, just to say his goodbyes.

The knock on the door was the most beautiful sound Yuuri heard in his entire life. Victor turned his head to the door and then to Yuuri and a crooked smile appeared in his lips – it almost looked like apologetic smile, if he knew the man just a little better, he would have bet money on it.

“That must be for me.” Victor walked to the door and Yuuri was sure his eyes would probably pop out of his eye sockets because of what he was seeing. Victor opened the door to a mountain of boxes and before he could even ask what was happening, the boxes were being placed inside his apartment.

“What?!”

“I won’t be able to get any hotels for a while, so I had my luggage delivered here!” Victor smiled with child-like amusement and Yuuri was pretty sure that he could feel his soul leaving his mortal body behind.

“What?!” Yuuri repeated, even more exasperated than before. He was barely okay with letting the man sleep on his sofa bed for a night, let alone for undetermined time!

“Oh, Yuuri, don’t be mean.” Victor pleaded walking right into Yuuri’s personal space. “It’s cold outside and very snowy.”

Yuuri wanted to argue that Victor was _Russian_. The New York winter should be ridiculous  for him; it probably didn’t even tickle him. But then again, Victor was far too close for Yuuri to have any rational thoughts. His brain was too focused on not falling to the ground to be able to argue with anyone. He managed to blurt out some words, and hoped they had some recognizable meaning.

“I can’t let you sleep in the sofa again.” Yuuri noticed his voice was far too loud.

“That’s true. It did hurt my back.” Victor looked up as he was thinking and Yuuri was able to spot the moment the thought crossed Victor’s thought; his eyes went dark and there was a mischievous smile on his lips before he spoke: “Are you suggesting we should sleep together, my dear Yuuri?” And then Victor Nikiforov _winked._

Yuuri left Victor talking to himself for the second time that day.

He escaped to his sewing room, thinking it would probably calm him down to be in his favorite place in the house, but then as soon as he walked in there are so many posters of Victor staring at him that Yuuri’s blush intensified.

Taking down the posters was a hard job. Yuuri told himself the only reason he wasn’t tearing them as he removed them was because they were expensive and not because he just couldn’t harm his precious posters. He stacked them together and stored them in an empty folder that he tried his best to hide under a pile of old fabric – he was just being thoughtful. If Victor ever decided to go snooping, he probably wouldn’t find them there.

Yuuri then grabbed the outfits and the cushions and shoved them inside an empty drawer. There weren’t any other empty stealthy places to hide those, so he prayed to any deity that bothered to listen that Victor never felt the urge to look towards that specific drawer.

The designer let himself slump into his chair as soon as he’s finished. His sewing room looks strangely empty now. He didn’t have time to dwell on it; there was a knock on his door and shortly after Victor was walking inside. Yuuri tried really hard not to stare at the drawer where he hid the cushions.

“Sorry about that.” Victor says, stopping in front of one of the mannequins, touching the sleeve of the outfit gently. “This is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri managed to mumble.

“What now?”

“Uh, I need to fix some small things but I was actually planning on working on some new costumes.”

“Can I watch?” Victor’s eyes gleamed. Yuuri furrowed his brows in confusion. Why on Earth would Victor want to watch? God, he was probably just going to groan and yell at his sketchbook for half an hour before he got something remotely interesting. There was no-

“Yuuri?”

“Why would you want to watch?”

“Well,” Victor leaned back on his chair, raising an eyebrow at Yuuri. “I could probably give you some valuable advice.”

“You’re a model.” Yuuri said simply.

“You wound me, Yuuri.” Victor laughed, placing a hand over his heart. Had Victor not been extremely exaggerated and borderline comical, Yuuri would have worried he had offended him. “I’ve worked with every big brand there is. Give me some credit.”

“I-uh, sure.”

Yuuri decides it’s time to start sketching. He had a couple of mood boards he’d made for the themes of his collection spread in front of him and he drew inspiration from that – the ancient Greece undertones, Eros and Agape... But Yuuri would never, not in a million years, admit that his biggest inspiration was sitting right next to him. Victor was both Agape and Eros. He embodied both the notions – the man who could behave with child-like excitement in a moment and transpire sexual maturity in the other. Yuuri thought of Eros, the cupid, and how he had different representations. One of them was a child – a chubby winged kid that held a bow and arrow. However… The other representation was a blindfolded male, son of the primordial gods.

That was Victor to Yuuri.

His sketch was messy because of how fast the ideas were rushing into him. As soon as he started making progress, Victor was shooting questions as fast as he could. Victor was the kind of person who couldn’t sit in silence – he was always trying to fill it up with pleasant conversation. He’d make suggestions here and there, talking about his experiences with working closely with other designers as Yuuri listened attentively. Victor did have some very good advice, and even though he had no experience _designing_ things, he was familiar with the whole process just enough to be helpful, almost like a coach.

“Yuuri, that looks really good.” Victor actually sounds impressed and Yuuri didn't have the guts to look at him. “Did you draw inspiration from your personal Eros?”

“No!” Yuuri nodded enthusiastically to show this didn’t have anything to do with his Eros; Lord knows he doesn’t even have one. “I was inspired by different Eros myths.” He explains, not looking away from his sketchpad. It was easier to talk to Victor when he didn’t have to take in all of his looks; Victor was blushing from the comforting heat inside the apartment, his nose was a pastel shade of pink.

Yuuri keeps on sketching while he explains his thinking to Victor. Not once he mentions that Victor is his inspiration, but he is pretty sure the man just _knows_. Victor was Eros himself and Yuuri had been struck by his arrow from the first time he saw his confidently stomp on a runway like he belonged.

As Yuuri works, Victor starts to roam around. He gets himself more coffee and another bagel after roughly an hour. Then, he tells Yuuri he’s going to organize his things. He comes back when Yuuri is trying to work on the technical drawing – the drawing with his instructions for sewing. It’s a lot less artistic and he doesn’t need to think about color and shading. However, he needs to think about fabric, stiches and all sorts of details.

Victor comes back while he’s working on the back of the piece. His stomach is rumbling, and his head is hurting. He needed to take a break an hour ago, but he was so into the creative process he didn’t dare to stop. Yuuri heard when Victor walked back into the sewing room. He didn’t sit down though – he could hear Victor footsteps behind him. When Yuuri wondered what Victor was doing, he spoke up:

“Yuuri? Is this me?” Yuuri turned around to find Victor holding a framed picture of himself, his long silver hair glittering on the runway. Victor had an amused smile on his lips; the fucker was having fun seeing him blush fifty shades of red.

“No!” Yuuri yelled as graceful as a bull in a china shop.

“Are you sure?” Victor laughed.

“….No.”

“Ah, Yuuri!” Victor giggles as Yuuri just let himself slip down from his chair to the floor. He accepted and welcomed death; his time of dying had come. Honestly, he’d been expecting the Grim Reaper for a while now, he was amused it took him that long.

“Well! I’m going get this work done at the shop, will you please excuse me!” Yuuri couldn’t keep his voice down for the life of him; either he yelled or he would just make a run for it again.

“Can I come?”

“No!” Yuuri yelled again and automatically went from ‘embarrassed’ to ‘mortified’. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that!” He waved his hands frantically at Victor, trying to convey that yes, he was an idiot and he didn’t mean any of it.

“It’s okay, Yuuri. I need to pick up Makkachin from his hotel.” Victor’s smile had lost a little of its excitement and Yuuri felt something tugging at his heartstrings. “By the way, does your landlord allow animals?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Great. Shall I meet you at the shop?”

“Okay!” Yuuri found himself yelling again. God, he needed to get a grip on himself.

“Perfect. I’ll see you later. I need to get in costume.” Victor winked again. Yuuri half wanted to ask Victor if he had something in his eye because he couldn’t stop freaking winking.

“Costume?” Yuuri raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“Well, no one knows where I am right now, so I am trying to keep a low profile. I also have a pretty large collection of wigs I rarely ever get to wear.” Victor laughed and Yuuri smiled a little.

“The long hair…” Yuuri found himself speaking even though his brain did not order him to say anything.

“Sorry?”

“Uh,” Yuuri coughed. “Your long silver hair, uh, was that, ah, a wig?” He needed to know.

“Nope. My own real hair.” Victor answered, running a hand  through his now shorter hair and Yuuri smiled, feeling relief wash over him. At least his life wasn’t a lie. “I was into a more androgynous look back then.”

“Oh.”

“Did you like it?” Victor leaned into Yuuri’s personal space. “Apparently you did.” Victor bit his lip when Yuuri didn’t answer and Yuuri was thoroughly overwhelmed. He grabbed his sketches and some of the mood boards and got up from his seat.

“See you later, Yuuri!” Victor yelled from the sewing room while Yuuri put on his coat. He had this way of saying Yuuri’s name, dragging the syllables longer than he needed and while it was endearing, Yuuri was too confused to be able to like it.

For the second time that day, Yuuri found peace in walking in the cold. It wasn’t snowing just yet but the sky was a dark shade of grey that only let him know that it was going to snow again and soon. He wrapped his blue scarf around his neck and looked for his beanie on his bag as he walked – his ears were starting to hurt from the cold.

Yuuri sighed as he opened the door to the store. When he’s working on a new collection he opens the store a lot less; he didn’t have the time to do it, especially this down the line. And after his fiasco the previous year, he wasn’t getting too many costumers anyway, so he wasn’t trying too hard anyway.

However, there was something comforting about his shop. He walked to the back, where he had his actual studio, and smiled at the mess. The sewing machines were surrounded in scrap fabric. Some of his rejected projects were still on the mannequins and the finished costumes were on a clothing rack, but they needed to be ironed. He liked how he could literally trace his creative process from the mess.

Yuuri walked to the fabric rack display. He was going to have Victor wear his stand out piece, so he had to choose his fabric carefully. Yuuri probably looked insane touching the different patterns and fabrics and looking back from his sketches to his options, but he didn’t care. He found a roll of silver lace out of place and when he picked it up, it automatically made him think of Victor’s hair. The lace had an intricate design to it, and it was so soft to the touch; he caught himself wondering if Victor’s hair was just as soft.

He shook his head. What was he thinking?! This was too much. He needed to get focused on his work; this was either his comeback or his last attempt at designing. His focus should be on the clothes and the show, not on Victor. Yuuri plugged his phone on the dock he had by his serger and got to working as soon as the first song started playing.

So he focused on making the pattern pieces. He had a few he could recycle from his other works for the collection so his work wouldn’t be as time consuming. Yuuri was sitting on the floor for this; there was something strangely cool about being able to sprawl all of his materials on the floor – it was almost like a really big mood board.

There was a dog bark shortly followed by a door closing. He hears Victor calling his name, and Yuuri is so focused on his work he barely has time to feel embarrassed about sitting on the floor like a child; he just say he’s in the back and goes back to working.

“Is it okay to bring Makkachin in?”

“I think so.” Yuuri frowns a little. He didn’t think it was ideal to have a dog in his studio, but he had to admit he was a big fan of that one dog in particular. Yuuri had a poodle just like Makkachin when he was younger and sometimes he missed the company of his Vicchan.

“Hello.”

“So, pattern pieces?” Victor smiles, lighting up the whole room.

Yuuri nods and starts explaining what he is doing. Victor listens attentively, giving Yuuri suggestions here and there – bring this up, close this gap, make this longer and shorter, and so on. He had a good notion on what looked dynamic on the runway and he also gave Yuuri advice on what would show off the outfit’s strengths in a picture. They worked together on Victor’s outfit like they had been doing this for years. Yuuri was certain that Victor knew this was his runway outfits at this point. He was dense, but he wasn’t stupid.

Eventually, Makkachin gave up paying attention, nodding off at one corner of the studio. Yuuri and Victor were working together and time didn’t exist. Yuuri felt like lightning had struck him every time Victor’s hand would accidentally brush against his. He was painfully aware of how close Victor was to him, sitting so close his body heat was making Yuuri feel warm. Victor was a star, just like the sun. He was brilliant in all senses of the word. Yuuri felt he could go blind if he stared at the man too long and he couldn’t help but wonder how dark his world would look when Victor left.

They were almost done with the pattern pieces when Yuuri started to feel a little light headed. He only then realized he hadn’t eaten all day; he was so absorbed in the creative process that he forgot to _eat_. He needed a break. His back was killing him, his hand was starting to hurt and his headache was turning into a migraine. He rubbed his eyes as Victor chatted excitedly about the fabrics Yuuri had chosen – black leather, lace and cotton for his Eros look and whites and blues and shimmering lace for his Agape look.

“Yuuri, I think you need some rest.” Victor stopped mid-sentence as Yuuri rubbed his eyes. “We can finish these tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Yuuri hummed in agreement, getting psychological ready to get up from the floor. He saw Victor grab his phone and take a picture of the mess they made on the floor. He wondered why; it was just an overall outline of Victor’s outfit and it didn’t look like anything but a bunch of papers and fabric.

And then Victor opened his Instagram. Yuuri watched wide-eyed as Victor posted the picture, tagging Katsuki Designs along with it. Why would he post that?! It was a work in progress, it barely looked like an outfit. The app freezes and closes itself on Victor’s phone, and soon after that there are so many likes and comments on the picture that Yuuri is flabbergasted.

“Ops.” Victor laughed.

Ops indeed. The whole world now knew that Victor was working with Katsuki Designs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early updates are my SHIT. I'm finally free from school so updating should be a little faster now! Thank you SO much for the kudos and comments and bookmarks <3  
> If you have any questions, I'm (always) on twitter @moimiles.


	4. Paper hearts turned ash begin to fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri tried to keep himself from asking, he truly did, but halfway through a silent, sleepy breakfast he ended up blurting out:  
> “Why me? I mean, why did you choose to work with me?” Yuuri rephrased his question after blurting out the first thing on his mind.

Even though the news that Yuuri and Victor were working together was spreading like wild fire on social media, they managed to get home from the shop without being interrupted. Yuuri thanked his lucky stars (all two of them) for that; he was far too tired to deal with the world right now. Victor and Yuuri walked in silence back to the apartment – Victor was unusually quiet, but Yuuri thought it was probably  because he hadn’t adapted to the New York time zone just yet. They were probably gonna crash and fall asleep as soon as they got to the apartment.

Makkachin, however, was very excited to finally be outside after spending so much time in the studio. The dog was running around excitedly, barking at the snowflakes as they started to fall. Yuuri smiled a little, wishing he had half the stamina that poodle had.

When they walked into the apartment, Yuuri was already in zombie mode. He didn’t even bother to cook; he just poorly heated some leftovers and barely managed to tell Victor to feel right at home and eat whatever he wanted. Yuuri didn’t have a lot of options to offer Victor, but he was too tired to care. He could feel his pulse resonating inside his skull and all he wanted was to manage to sleep eight hours. God, when was the last time he slept eight hours?

His leftovers were kind of cold in the middle, thanks to the microwave, but Yuuri ate them anyway. He was thinking about Victor, who was currently talking in Russian to his dog; Yuuri didn’t understand a single word, but he knew he was talking to Makkachin because he was talking in a very silly baby voice. Victor was slowly becoming human to Yuuri. It was kind of stupid, now, how Yuuri had always put the model in a fifty feet high pedestal – perfect and completely out of reach. Victor was just as much of a flirt as he was silly. He had a childish way of expressing his emotions extremely excitedly, like he was so new to life that small things were still a wonder to him.

Also, Yuuri felt bad about even thinking this, but Victor was _annoying_. In his wildest dreams, Yuuri had used many words to describe Victor, but annoying was definitely not one of them. The man was restless – he was always moving, thinking, speaking, _teasing._ Oh, God, when was Victor not teasing Yuuri?! He basically communicated in flirty, cheeky comments. He could be giving Yuuri a suggestion about fabric, but he would end it with a joke and pronouncing Yuuri’s name in that one way, stretching the sound as if to savor it. It was very frustrating, but at the same time, after the millionth time, it was irritating. Yuuri wanted to yell at him, like he would with a toddler. Or maybe give him a Popsicle and watch the man get overwhelmingly happy and distracted for fifteen minutes or so.

And even though Victor was that annoying, Yuuri knew that he was the reason his heart was beating so hard inside his ribcage the whole afternoon. At first he thought he was just anxious – he was, after all, spending the day creating with the man he admired most in the world – but as the clock ticked the hours away, his heart kept pounding and Yuuri had a smile tattooed on his lips… His anxiety was something _ugly_. This was a beautiful feeling, something that made his usually empty chest feel filled with joy.

That was the main reason he was tired, but he wasn’t miserable. Yeah, he had a terrible migraine, his back was probably not going back to normal for a couple of days, and his hands were trembling from working all day… But he was happy. He had missed feeling this happy over work, over fashion.

Yuuri dragged his half-conscious body to the bathroom. He took a scalding hot shower to ease the pain on his back enough so that he could sleep. He was more than ready to just bury himself under the covers and pretend he was absolutely dead to the world for at least five hours. So as soon as he got himself in his pajamas, Yuuri walked into the room and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows.

A few hours later, though to Yuuri it felt like seconds, he felt the weight of the mattress shift, as if someone was in bed with him. He didn’t even flinch – the body heat was so appealing in the cold night, he even leaned into it. Yuuri thought it was probably just Makkachin joining him in bed, or even just his dreams making him think there was somebody in bed with him. It was not something worth opening his eyes for, and after all, it was probably not a burglar considering they were lying in bed with Yuuri.

Yuuri only opened his eyes when his alarm buzzed on the nightstand. He tried to slap it into stopping without looking, but it wouldn’t stop so Yuuri gave up and finally woke up. As soon as the obnoxious ringing stopped, Yuuri stretched lazily. His hands weren’t hurting anymore, that was good, but his back was kind of sore. He then grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on as he sat up.

The light peeking through the curtains was enough so that Yuuri could see Makkachin lying on the end of the bed. Maybe that was why Yuuri felt so warm during the night – he had an overgrown puppy lying on his feet keeping him from getting cold. He almost didn’t have the guts to move. How could he wake Makkachin up?! It was betrayal, the dog was so fast asleep it didn’t even look up when the alarm rang.

And then Yuuri kicked Makkachin out of bed.

Let’s back up a littLe. Yuuri was staring sleepily at the dog, too warm and comfortable to get up when a voice interrupted his daydream. However, the voice was not coming from outside his door, but right next to him. And it was a sleepy, husky sound – which would have been wonderful if Yuuri had mentally prepared himself for it:

“Good morning, Yuuri.”

Victor Nikiforov was sleeping in his bed. He was sleeping right next to him, sharing the sheets and the covers and even the dog – the one Yuuri kicked out of bed when he realized he had shared a bed with Victor. The poor thing whined its way out of the room and just then Yuuri realized he hadn’t said anything but a surprised gasp.

“What?! Victor-?!” Yuuri mentally congratulated himself for being so eloquent.

“The sofa bed was really uncomfortable, and I thought you wouldn’t mind.” Victor smiled a little. His face was a pretty shade of pink and he was hiding half of it in his pillow, actually, Yuuri’s pillow. “Don’t be so embarrassed, Yuuri.” He yawned and then finally sat up. “It’s not like you have a framed picture of me in your room.”

“Of course I don’t! They were in the sewing room!” Yuuri complained.

“Yuuri.” Victor sleepily said his name, dragging out the sound. Yuuri could feel Victor’s leg brushing against his softly. “They?”

“It!” And Yuuri was yelling again.

“Ah, Yuuri!” Victor laughed a little, and before Yuuri could make a bigger fool of himself he got out of bed. He was too hung over the fact that he and Victor had shared a bed to think that he was walking out of his bedroom in his pajamas. They weren’t embarrassing, or anything, but it was weird to be walking around Victor Nikiforov in _pajamas_. Old pajamas, by the way.

“I need coffee.” Yuuri interrupted Victor as soon as he opened his mouth. He was certain that some silly comment was about to come and he just thought it was overall better not to let Victor speak. At all. So he just left as soon as he could and walked to the kitchen. Makkachin, who apparently was not hurt from Yuuri’s kick, followed him happily.

The routine helps Yuuri feel a little more normal. He makes coffee and put the bagels from yesterday in the toaster. He grabs the cream cheese from the fridge while Makkachin lies down by the kitchen door. Yuuri was setting the table when he heard the shower getting turned on. He blushed as he thought back to nearly naked Victor in his kitchen and hoped to God that the model would have the decency to wear some goddamn clothes this time.

Yuuri was having his first cup of coffee when Victor walked into the kitchen. He was fully dressed this time, bless his heart. It was the middle of winter, he couldn’t be walking around naked too much, right? Even Russians weren't that immune to the cold. Yuuri watched as Victor poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a bagel from the toaster. He sat next to Yuuri and smiled a little, still looking a little sleepy.

Yuuri tried to keep himself from asking, he truly did, but halfway through a silent, sleepy breakfast he ended up blurting out:

“Why me?" He bluntly asked, and then shook his head. "I mean, why did you choose to work with me?” Yuuri rephrased his question after blurting out the first thing on his mind. Victor turned to look at him with a soft look on his eyes. He laughed a little before talking:

“Really? You don’t know?” Victor laughed a little and Yuuri waited for the bad news. Maybe he lost a bet. Maybe he owed someone a favor or something. It was hard for the designer to imagine any good reasons coming out of Victor’s mouth after what he said. So Yuuri just nodded; he was scared of talking right now.

“Yuuri, the first time I saw one of your creations I was just messing around on Instagram. I was not ready for it. I fell in love with the sheer amount of effort you put into every single article of clothing you made. I watched some of your runways showdowns and God…” Victor stopped to laugh. “The clothes seemed to come to life in the runway. I didn’t need music or set dressing or anything. They told a complete story and I knew that it was something I had to do, something that I needed to walk down a runway with.”

“Oh.” Yuuri heard himself speak when Victor paused to take a sip of his coffee.

“I hated that you didn’t have the recognition you deserve. I waited until I was free from my contract so I could reach out to you as soon as possible. Your talent,” Victor sighed, “you deserve to be on the cover of magazines. You deserve to be crowding fashion weeks around the world. And that’s why I’m here, Yuuri. I can make that possible.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t find any words. He was flabbergasted – he would never in a million years expect that from Victor. There was this passion in his voice and a little glimmer on his eyes. He was so into his explanation; it was clear he had given it some thought. Yuuri was blown away. Yuuri’s heart was beating so fast inside his chest and he had no clue if he was happy, anxious or a crazy cocktail of both.

“And…”

“And?” Yuuri asked.

“I was bored.” Victor sighed.

There it was. The bad news. Yuuri knew it was too good to be true; Victor wouldn’t just come to New York because he actually liked Yuuri’s work. He was just bored. He would probably get bored soon and leave without a second thought – he had just done that to whoever he was in Paris with. Now Yuuri knew that his accelerated heartbeat was not because he was happy; he was just terrified. 

“Yuuri?” Victor called his attention back to him when he spaced out.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“I mean that I’ve worked with everyone. I’ve done everything – photo-shoots, runways, ads, TV… There has been something missing lately. I haven’t felt this excited about work in so long.” Victor sighed and Yuuri understood exactly what he meant.

Yuuri too had stopped caring about his work. It was a burden, not a pleasure. And then Victor threw himself into his life, making everything go from black and white into high definition and color. He was actually enjoying spending hours at the studio with Victor. He couldn’t wait to see him walking down the runway with something Yuuri made. And that made him feel a little more at ease.

“Ah, Yuuri, I am so happy. I have an expiration date, you know.” Victor ran a hand through his silver hair. “I am soon going to be thirty. So I’m glad that I managed to work with you during my good years.” He laughed a little and Yuuri joined.

Yuuri ended up not saying anything, but he just felt comfortable in silence. He knew he was probably blushing a million shades of pink right now, yet he didn’t care. There was a reason Victor was here and it wasn’t a bet, or a favor. It was because he believed in Yuuri. And that was all he ever needed. He tried not to dwell on it; he could feel happy tears prickling his eyes whenever he thought too much of it.

Victor starts filling the silence with fashion talk, telling Yuuri about some of his misadventures around the world. He told Yuuri about the crazy photo-shoots he had been involved all because the designer didn’t think a regular photo did his outfit justice. He also commented on the crazy inspirations the designers had for their collections – he even mentioned one guy that was inspired by _food_ – and when Victor turned his eyes to Yuuri, he knew the focus of the conversation had shifted.

“What inspired you, Yuuri?”

“Well, that’s a good question.” Yuuri mumbled between bites of his bagel.

“For Eros… Did you think about a girlfriend?” Victor leaned into Yuuri’s personal space, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips like he wanted desperately to smile but was trying to keep the conversation serious.

“…No.” Yuuri pretended he wasn’t blushing by taking a large gulp of coffee.

“A boyfriend, then?” Victor’s smile finally came through, like the sun from under heavy clouds. Yuuri was probably imagining it, but there was something that made it seem like Victor was mocking him, and it felt like ice had settled over his bones.

“No. No one.”

“Oh." Victor paused as the realization settled. "You never had a lover before, Yuuri?” Victor’s eyes darkened and his smile got wider when Yuuri just looked away from him. “You have no experience whatsoever, do you?”

“No. And if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to get done.” Yuuri got up, grabbing his empty plate and mug to drop it in the sink. He grabbed some appropriate clothes from his wardrobe and holed up in the sewing room of the apartment, trying to forget that interaction ever happened.

He felt that Victor’s teasing was ill-intended. He didn’t need to have a personal inspiration for Eros or Agape, or anything for that matter. It didn’t usually bother Yuuri that he didn’t have any experience in the love department; he was too busy taking care of himself and his business to care that he was never interested. While Victor was out dating and being the world’s most eligible bachelor, the biggest fish in the sea, he was just _fine_ staying at home and sewing his life away.

Yuuri, who was before so enchanted by Victor's kind words, felt he needed to put some distance between them after that awkward moment. He locked the door of the sewing room behind him and opened his laptop to check his emails, hoping to forget that dreadful interaction before his anxiety kicked in.

What Yuuri didn’t expect was the load of messages in his inbox. Promoters, marketing teams, models from all over the globe emailing him about his show. There were famous people who he would never have dreamed to interact emailing him. They wanted to help him – they wanted to promote his show, plan his show, do anything for the show that the great Victor Nikiforov was in. He had a half mind to delete the emails and just pretend he never got any of them. However, the part that was actually excited about his show called Minako and told her about the offers and asked for her advice.

They ended up chatting on Skype so Yuuri could show her all the emails better. Together, they selected the companies Yuuri actually should work with and they end up scheduling meetings throughout the whole afternoon. Yuuri felt relief wash over him – first because he wouldn’t have to do everything alone like he usually did, but also because he’d have a great excuse not to deal with Victor today.

He changed into something a little less informal and tells Victor he’s leaving for a meeting without properly looking him in the eye. Yuuri feels guilty, but he couldn’t help it. This was standard to him; running away when he couldn’t deal with a situation. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about Victor and his whole mess of a life because as soon as he walked into the studio he had so much to do before Minako got there with the people they were having the meetings that he just focused on the task at hand.

The day flew by. Yuuri and Minako ordered takeout from a Chinese restaurant nearby and had to eat fast before their next meeting began. Around five in the afternoon, Yuuri started to feel a headache forming right in between his eyes and he hated he still hadn’t got around to buying more painkillers. Their last meeting finished around nine, but Yuuri and Minako still stayed in the studio deciding which marketing team they liked better, and who they were going to hire as a promoter, and so on.

They ate cold leftovers around eleven and Minako sent emails to the companies they chose while they were eating. It had been a crazy busy day, but Yuuri didn’t feel sleepy at all. He wanted some coffee and comfortable shoes, but he was pretty sure he could still go on and finish at least one of Victor’s outfits tonight. He needed them to be ready soon, since the fitting with the models was coming up and he couldn’t give Victor any special treatment whatsoever. It was bad enough that he was staying in Yuuri’s place; he didn’t a scandal around that, thank you very much.

So when Minako said her goodbyes, Yuuri locked the studio and walked home thinking of warm coffee and comfortable shoes. He was lucky enough that it didn’t snow on his way back. However, the floor was very slippery because of the thin layer of ice on the streets, making Yuuri walk slowly so not to fall and hurt himself.

He opened the door of the apartment to find Victor and Makkachin on the couch, watching TV. The heat inside the apartment felt nice against Yuuri’s cold cheeks and he kind of liked the feeling of having someone to come home to, even if it was Victor. Makkachin jumped out of the couch as Yuuri walked in, greeting him with quiet barks and jumping out of happiness.

“Hi.” He smiled, petting the dog’s head with affection. Yuuri walked to his room, locking the door behind him so he could get changed. He chose a more comfortable sweater – it was an old oversized sweater he got from his mom a few years back – and changed his shoes. He needed his snow boots to make sure he wouldn’t end up falling right on his face on the walk back to the shop. Maybe he should get a taxi, Yuuri thought. It was late, and it was very cold outside-

A knock on the door interrupted Yuuri’s train of thought.

“Yuuri!” It was Victor. He was stretching out the sound of Yuuri’s name again, and that could only mean trouble. “Let’s have a sleepover!”

Yuuri got up from his bed and opened the door to find Victor in his pajamas and holding his pillow like a child. His eyes were wide and hopeful and there was a large smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry, Victor.” Yuuri tried not to blush as he walked past Victor. “I’m going to get some work done at the studio.”

 “But it’s late.” Victor’s smile dissipated slowly as he followed Yuuri down the hall into the living room.

“I’m not tired.” Yuuri shrugged as he put on his heavy overcoat. The snow was probably making an appearance later into the night and Yuuri didn’t want to catch a cold. Victor frowned as he stared at Yuuri, almost pouting a little. He opened his mouth, but it took him a full second before he managed to speak:

“Yuuri, please take care of yourself, okay?” Victor pleaded. Yuuri nodded, a small smile tugging on his lips. There was something about Victor worrying about him that warmed his soul, and almost made him forget about that dreadful moment earlier. So he let himself actually smile at the model, crinkling his nose a little at him.

“See you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be a monster, so I ended up cutting it in half so I could post it faster! I'm so sorry for taking a week to update, so I promise to post the next chapter around Thursday. Btw, the title of the chapter comes from a song called Circles by Pierce the Veil.  
> Thank you for the kudos, bookmarks and comments SO MUCH!! <3 I really appreciate every single one of them.  
> I'm (always) on twitter @moimiles.


	5. Teach me how to read these broken lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yuuri, you need to rest.”
> 
> “I’m not tired.”
> 
> “Great! Let’s go out for dinner then.” Victor got up and grabbed his coat by the door before Yuuri could even react. He was running a little slow considering his sleep deprived situation, so it was hard to understand just what the hell Victor was doing. “There’s this Irish pub by Times Square that is, apparently, a delight.”

Yuuri realized he had worked too much when the studio started to become strangely lit – it was the sun coming up. He hadn’t noticed the time flying by as he worked on Victor’s Eros outfit, in fact, he thought he had been at it for only a couple of hours. His head wasn’t hurting, and his hands were only slightly sore, so he assumed it was still early. He wasn’t lying to Victor when he said he wasn’t tired; it was almost seven in the morning and he didn’t feel sleepy.

However, he was starving and it was time for him to give his body some rest. It was better to work slow and steady than to kill himself in the process and never finish the collection at all. So Yuuri got up to close the studio and go home. He should probably take a sleep for a few hours or just take a power nap, but he had another important meeting with Minako today – he couldn’t let himself sleep through his alarms.

It was a beautiful day in New York. The sun was finally making an appearance after days of hiding behind the clouds and even though it was still very cold, Yuuri sighed at the feeling of the sun hitting his face. It was nice being out this early – there were fewer people in the usually crowded streets and it was very quiet outside. He could hear his footsteps crushing the thin layer of snow on the sidewalk. He got to the apartment much faster; at least it felt that way in the pleasant morning weather.

Yuuri walked into the apartment and the first thing he noticed was the smell of fresh coffee; his body reacted to it immediately and Yuuri thought he should probably start detoxing from coffee soon as his addiction was getting out of hand.

“Yuuri?” He heard Victor calling his name from the kitchen. He took off his coat and wet boots before walking in. Victor was still in his pajamas, but he had a big cup of coffee on his hands. Yuuri could tell the model had just woken up – his eyes were smaller and there was a pink blush all over his cheeks and nose.

“Good morning.” Yuuri said, walking towards the cupboards to get himself a cup.

“Hmm.” Victor hummed in agreement. “Did you sleep at the studio?”

“Uh, no, actually. I ended up working all night.”

“What?! Yuuri! Go to bed.” Victor got up from his seat to take the cup from Yuuri’s hand, keeping him from having his precious coffee.

“I’m not tired, and I-”

“You go and take a nap.” Victor ignored him, putting the cup right back from where Yuuri had taken it from.

“I have a meeting later and-”

“Sleep.” Victor’s voice was stern and Yuuri sighed in frustration. He wouldn’t win that battle, so he just walked out of the kitchen and into his room before the model started yelling at him or something. He looked _angry_. It was not like Yuuri hadn’t pulled all-nighters before; his body didn’t exactly like it, but it was used to it.

Yuuri didn’t bother to change into his pajamas, he just took off his heavier sweater and got under the covers. He set and alarm for one hour; he’d have plenty of time to wake up and shower and _eat_. He was still hungry, but now that he was in bed he finally realized how exhausted his body was. The bed was so warm and comfortable – it almost felt like it was hugging Yuuri.

He took off his glasses, put his phone to charge and fell asleep in a matter of seconds. He was pretty sure that he had just placed his head on the pillow when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. Thinking it was his alarm, Yuuri tried to turn it off, but as it started to ring for the second time, Yuuri opened his eyes to see an incoming call from Minako. He picked up without even getting up from his bed:

“Hmm?” He groaned.

“Hey, I’m getting us some coffee for the meeting, do you want anything to eat? I’m early.”

“What?” Yuuri rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what Minako was saying. He was sure she had suddenly picked up Latin and was speaking to him in a dead language because he understood virtually nothing. It was hard enough to process English when he was this tired.

“Yuuri…” Her voice dropped a few levels and he just knew she was blushing red from anger. He could imagine her using her whole body to yell at him: “Are you still asleep?!”

“No?” He tried to lie, sitting up on his bed. He couldn’t really see anything, which didn’t help his sleepiness. 

“You have ten minutes to be at the studio or I will kill you, Yuuri Katsuki.” Minako’s voice had dropped to a whisper, which was a lot scarier than her screaming-angry voice. He believed her, and he wasn’t particularly interested in dying today. So he stumbled out of bed, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and putting on the sweater he was wearing before.

Yuuri tried to multitask, but he failed miserably. Turns out he couldn’t brush his teeth and his hair at the same time – he had to stop one to do the other. He ran out of the bathroom to grab his coat and put on his boots. However, he had forgotten about the very large dog that was now living in his house. Yuuri tripped over Makkachin, who was taking a nap in the middle of the living room.

“Agh!” Yuuri yelped as he fell down. It was mortifying enough that he had tripped on a dog and was going to be late to an important meeting. The whole situation got a lot worse when Yuuri heard Victor giggling at him from the couch. He had been watching the whole interaction - Yuuri could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment. Thank God he was still quite sleepy, the fall didn’t hurt half as much. He hoped Minako would actually murder him; his day had barely started and he was already mortified.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked breathlessly from laughing. Yuuri nodded as he put on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck, hoping it’d hide the blush burning his face.

“I have to go, I have a meeting and I’m late.” Yuuri tried to explain where he was going but he was too tired. It was hard to talk and check his bag for his wallet and keys at the same time. “I have a spare key in the key holder, if you leave the apartment please lock the door behind you.”

“Yuuri, did you eat anything?” Victor was now frowning.

“Minako is picking something up for me.” Yuuri explained. The last thing he saw before leaving the apartment was Victor’s face; he seemed upset about something, but Yuuri’s brain was still in sleep mode and therefore couldn’t, for the life of him, understand what was going on.

Yuuri half jogged to the store. He almost slipped on the icy pavement a couple of times but after his humiliating fall in the apartment, those slips were child’s play. He was also taking into account that Minako would actually kill him if he was late; he’d rather break an arm falling on the sidewalk then be murdered.

Finally, Yuuri got to the studio. He was lucky enough that Minako hadn’t arrived yet and he had time to just open the shop before she walked in. She was holding a coffee tray and the smell of freshly brewed coffee almost made Yuuri tear up. He had been craving coffee since earlier that morning and he was finally about to get some.

“You look awful.” She pointed out without even greeting Yuuri.

“I think I slept an hour last night.” He sighed, grabbing the travel cup of coffee before he sat down. “Thank you.”

Yuuri didn’t have time to eat though. He managed to take a couple sips of his coffee before the event managers arrived and they had to start the meeting. The meeting stretched on for _hours_. They talked about the brand in so much detail Yuuri was about to rip his hair out – he made clothes, for God’s sake, not a lifestyle like the managers expected. It would probably be a very exciting meeting if Yuuri wasn’t sleep deprived and starving; Minako seemed very happy about their discussion.

A couple of hours into their meeting, Minako proposed a break; they were only going over budgeting now, and they still had a lot of ground to cover. Yuuri offered to buy everyone coffee and food because he needed to get some air. He knew he shouldn’t have slept; he felt like hell heated over.

The meeting ended when they had a rough outline of everything – target audience, the event concept, budgets, catering, and an idea of décor. Yuuri was lucky he had previously checked out venues; it made their job a lot easier and shortened the meeting by a few hours. The place he had chosen reminded him of a ballet studio because of the high ceiling and tall windows. It was in Manhattan, right next to Central Park, and it wasn’t too expensive considering its location.

While the meeting had ended, they had to schedule a new one right after the model fittings – Yuuri needed to get feedback on things they didn’t know for sure, like décor. Yuuri felt a stress headache forming right between his eyes. This was going to be the biggest launch of his career. He’d never had a _team_ of marketing people and planners. He never had the media so interested in him – he had to turn off his phone halfway through the meeting because it wouldn’t stop buzzing from phone calls and emails. Yuuri could feel his anxiety peeking over his shoulder, just waiting for a tiny slip up to make him lose it.

It was all because of Victor. He didn’t think that in a bad way, as in blaming Victor for his stress and anxiety; he was aware that his anxiety and his stress were his problems and he couldn’t blame them on anyone but himself. Yuuri felt thankful – none of this would have been possible without Victor. Although Yuuri didn’t feel confident at all considering his event, planning, marketing, budgets and all those anxiety inducing parts of the show, there was something he was sure: this was his best work and Victor was right. He deserved the recognition for it.

So instead of going home right after the meeting and going to bed at two in the afternoon, Yuuri took a bus to his favorite restaurant, ate more food than he probably should, and then made his way to various fabric stores in Manhattan. He was looking for something very specific for Victor’s agape look – something shiny, iridescent, and almost holographic. He was going to be the first model to stomp on his runway so he needed his entrance to be memorable.

The search took hours, but he finally found something that could work. It was always motivating to find the right fabric; it gave Yuuri a rush of inspiration that always made him want to start working right away. But before he could hole up in the studio again, he needed a shower and maybe a nap.

Yuuri got home and it was weird to see the apartment empty. Neither Victor or Makkachin were home – he assumed that Victor took the dog out for a walk before the sun went down. It was odd how he was kind of used to coming home to find the model in it. Actually, no, it was very stupid. He was about to leave; this was a temporary situation. Soon enough Victor would find a hotel for himself and leave and Yuuri didn’t want to have to get used to an empty house all over again.

Before he could dwell too much on that, Yuuri decided to take his (much needed) shower. The warm water felt like a blessing after the day he had. It relaxed his tense shoulders and cleared his head – there was something so comforting about feeling clean. Yuuri got dressed in comfortable clothes, thinking he’d spend some good time at the studio. He was tying his shoes when he heard Victor walk in; he was talking to Makkachin in Russian again. Yuuri ran a hand through his wet hair before walking out of his room.

“Yuuri!” Victor smiled as soon as he saw him.

“Hey.”

“How was the meeting?” The model asked, a genuine glimmer on his eyes showing that he was interested and not asking just to be polite. Yuuri smiled before explaining everything they had talked over during the meeting.

Victor engaged in the conversation and gave so many great suggestions that Yuuri felt stupid not asking him to come to the meeting – he was the most experienced one, after all. He made a mental note of bringing him to the meeting after the fittings. He commented briefly on the fabric he bought; how shiny and ethereal it was and how it was just sitting in the corner of the shop, like it meant for him.

“Can I see it?” Victor asked, Makkachin cuddled up on his lap.

“I’m actually heading out to the studio to work on it, do you want to come along?”

“Yuuri, you need to rest.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Great! Let’s go out for dinner then.” Victor got up and grabbed his coat by the door before Yuuri could even react. He was running a little slow considering his sleep deprived situation, so it was hard to understand just what the hell Victor was doing. “There’s this Irish pub by Times Square that is, apparently, a delight.”

“What?”

“You’re having dinner and then going to bed.” Victor didn’t even look at Yuuri’s direction while he put on a scarf and a beanie. “You’re overworking yourself, _solnyshko_ , and I can’t model if my designer is dead.”

“I’m not dead.” Yuuri brilliantly responded.

“You’re brain dead, Yuuri.” That was probably meant to be an insult, but Victor said it with an unusual affection that just made Yuuri very confused. “Come on, let’s get a cab.”

So Yuuri put on his coat and followed Victor outside. They walked to the main street and got a cab together. Victor told the driver the address and Yuuri noticed it wasn’t very far from his apartment, but because it was very cold outside it was probably best for them not to walk there, especially now that the sun was going down. The sky was getting clearer, so maybe it would finally stop snowing for a while. The snow piling up on the sidewalk and buildings gave New York an otherworldly feel, but it was a pain in the neck to deal with it daily.

The pub was just right off Times Square and it wasn’t very crowded. Victor picked a table by the window and while the waitress didn’t bring them a menu, Victor and Yuuri were too distracted by the view of the city to talk to each other. When their waitress came back, they quickly decided on food, and finally talked to each other when Victor was ordering his drink:

“This is an Irish pub, Victor.” Yuuri sighed, a smile blooming on his lips. “You shouldn’t be ordering vodka, but beer.”

“Fine.” Victor rolled his eyes. “Two beers then.”

Yuuri, who wasn’t planning on drinking anything alcoholic, didn’t have time to say something before the waitress walked away; and that thought slipped his mind pretty fast when Victor leaned forward before talking:

“So, Yuuri…” Victor’s eyes glowed. “What do you want me to be?”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri furrowed his brows in confusion. “M-my model, I guess?” He’d never admit it, not even to himself, but there was a dirty little secret part of him that just loved being able to say ‘ _my_ model’. Victor had been the model to thousands of massive, opulent brands and now he was willingly Yuuri’s. He had stolen Victor from the world and there was some dark satisfaction inside Yuuri because of that thought.

“I mean besides that.” The model sighed. “Do you want me to be your friend?”

“Yeah, of course I wan-”

“Father figure?” Victor went on, ignoring as Yuuri tried to interrupt him.

“No! No, no-”

“Lover?” Victor smirked and Yuuri could feel his body sliding down the chair, making its way to the floor. “It’s settled then.” The model laughed and Yuuri had a half mind to just call him the asshole he was. But he didn’t, he just sat back up and changed the subject:

“I’ve been working on your outfits…”

“Yeah?” Victor encouraged him to speak by flashing him a large smile.

“Yeah. I need to get them done in time for the fittings.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Victor laughed a little and their waitress came back with their beers before Yuuri could carry on:

“I’ve made real progress on the Eros outfit.” Yuuri looked away from Victor and took a sip of his beer, hoping that maybe he wouldn’t be heard. “It’s probably my best work.”

“I’m sure it is.” The model’s expression softened. “And it’s only fair you’ll have your best model wear it.” Victor winked and laughed shortly after, and even though Yuuri blushed, he laughed, joining Victor in his joke. (Well. It probably wasn’t a joke to Victor.)

“Sure.”

Their food arrived shortly after. There was something different between them this time; they finally weren’t just talking about fashion and the collection. Yuuri told Victor about growing up in Japan, and Victor talked about Russia. They discussed the differences between their countries laughing and drinking good beer until they were tipsy. Victor dwelled on the food, and how even though he had tried cuisines from all over the globe, there was nothing like the goods from his home country.

Yuuri agreed, of course, he missed eating his mother’s pork cutlet bowl recipe so much it hurt him. He tried to make it himself, but it just didn’t do it any justice; he told Victor about that and the man laughed, but asked Yuuri to try and make it for him one day anyway.

They left the pub a few hours later and Yuuri felt sleep wash over him as soon as they got into a cab. He didn’t remember most of the drive home. Sleep came easy to him when he was tipsy, full of warm food and just overall _happy_. The fact that he barely slept the previous night probably helped too.

They got to the apartment quite early, it was barely nine, but Yuuri was ready for bed. He managed to groan at Victor something that kind of sounded like “good night” while the model petted his dog and then went straight to his room. He was almost too lazy to change into his pajamas, but he gathered the courage to do so – he knew from experience that sleeping the night in his jeans would be very uncomfortable.

He heard the shower getting turned on right before he fell asleep. Yuuri didn’t set an alarm; he didn’t have anything but sewing to do tomorrow and he deserved to sleep as much as his body needed. He was already in deep slumber when Victor and Makkachin joined him in bed later – all he knows is that it was the best night of sleep he had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I need to thank Natalie (@cresstic) for proof-reading this for me and just overall being awesome. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos and comments I will bake you all cookies someday I promise <3 I'm going to try and update it as much as I can, but at least once a week there should be a new chapter ready. ;) Btw, the title of the chapter is from "Happy Endings Are Stories that Haven't Ended Yet" by Mayday Parade
> 
> Also, if ep 11 didn't kill you, I don't know what will I am,, still,,, shook


	6. Two plastic hearts with nowhere to run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Eros costume is working a bit too well”, Yuuri thought bitterly as he pulled the zipper. He tapped Victor’s back softly, letting him know he was ready to go. He could feel the heat from Victor’s skin through the fabric and he wondered if suddenly he had a fever because it was impossible he felt that hot just from closing a zipper.

Yuuri woke up on his own, slowly regaining consciousness. He felt well rested, warm and just overall happy. He could feel Makkachin sleeping right next to him, keeping him warm. There was the delicious smell in the air of fresh food – probably fried bacon and coffee. Yuuri’s stomach grumbled at the smell, and he got out of bed feeling like he had won in life.

After putting on his glasses and changing into something other than his pajamas, Yuuri walked out of the room. He wondered if this was Victor’s doing; if he had gone out to buy breakfast or something. Yuuri was starving and he would forever owe his model one if he had bought food.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

Yuuri walked into the kitchen to find Victor humming some song he didn’t know – he was torn between unknown Russian ballad and really bad American pop song – while cooking. He was even wearing an apron that Yuuri forgot he owned. Upon closer inspection, Yuuri found freshly cooked bacon on the table, fresh coffee being brewed and Victor making scrambled eggs.

“Good morning, Victor.”

“Good morning, Yuuri!” Victor turned to smile at him. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

Yuuri grabbed himself a cup of coffee while Victor finished their eggs. There was something about the domestic setting of that morning that made his heart beat a little painfully. Victor was cooking breakfast for them, happily humming something while walking around in a really ugly apron. Yuuri had never got anything close to this; someone to cook him breakfast, or worry about him when he overworked… It made his heart break a little that Victor would leave soon. Victor placed a plate in front of Yuuri with a dazzling smile.

“Toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon.” He beamed with pride. Yuuri had to bite down on his tongue to stop him from getting too emotional over this small act of kindness. “Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be sad. You’re doing great! You’re ahead of schedule with my outfits and you have a whole team of people to help you.” Victor smiled, completely misreading the designer’s feelings. “I can always help you, you know that, right? I am getting pretty tired of your apartment.” The model winked at Yuuri, who had to laugh.

They started eating in silence – both men were too hungry to try and talk to each other for the first few bites. The food was good, and Yuuri was quite surprised that Victor could cook; but then again, it was scrambled eggs and bacon. No one could possibly mess that up.

“Hey, I’m almost finished with your Eros costume.” Yuuri casually mentioned after a few moments of silence. “It’s going to be ready in time for the fittings for sure. I still need to-”

“Really?!” Victor interrupted enthusiastically. The designer nodded.

“It’s actually ready for fittings. There are just some minor details that I need to hand-sew and-”

“Can I try it on?!”

“The fittings are in a few days, of course you can.” Yuuri smiled at Victor’s excitement.

“No, I mean, right now.”

“Uh, I think so? Sure.” Yuuri was confused about why Victor would want to go try on his costume at ten in the morning while it was probably freezing outside, but there was something about his excitement that made Yuuri’s heart flutter. He wasn’t expecting that Victor would finish his breakfast and coffee in a matter of seconds – Yuuri didn’t even see him chewing his food, it was as if Victor snorted it in.

Victor dashed out of the kitchen and the model was dressed and ready before Yuuri could finish his coffee. Makkachin woke up because of the commotion Victor made and was now jumping excitedly at his owner’s legs, almost making Victor fall to the ground. The model was excitedly putting on his coat when Yuuri went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“Shall we?” Victor was biting down on his bottom lip, probably trying to keep himself from smiling.

“Yeah. I think we should probably get a cab, just in case.” Yuuri suggested.

“That’s fine.” Victor sighed, halfway out the door while Yuuri was still putting on his heavier coat.

So the two of them took a cab to the studio. The ride was short and cost almost nothing; Yuuri could tell the cab driver was a bit upset about the cheap ride, however, Victor was so contagiously excited that Yuuri didn’t care. They walked into the studio together, and before Yuuri could even turn on the lights properly, Victor was already looking for his costume.

“It’s by the sewing machines, Victor.” He laughed at his anxious model. Yuuri didn’t open the studio, just turned on the lights for his work space. He was probably going to finish Victor’s agape costume today, so he couldn’t deal with the shop.

“Is this it?” Victor showed him the black leotard. His blue eyes were sparkling and Yuuri could have sworn he was dreaming. There was absolutely no way in heaven that Victor Nikiforov would be that interested in a costume some unknown Japanese designer created. So he just nodded and watched as Victor disappeared into a fitting room space.

His heart wasn’t ready to see Victor wearing his creation. He thought that because he had designed it with Victor in mind, the “actual human behind the pictures” Victor that he had come to know, he’d be ready. It shouldn’t be that much of surprise, really. But when Victor walked out, Yuuri had to really hold onto consciousness to avoid fainting like a fangirl.

It was a shame it didn’t fit him like a glove. The crotch was a bit too low and the pants were a little too long. And it was Eros, the sexual love, so Yuuri knew he needed to make the bodysuit _tighter._ The sheer panel down his chest showed just enough to make Yuuri a little uncomfortable and the first few gems that Yuuri managed to sew into the costume so far were complementing the man’s eyes perfectly. Victor had a smirk on his lips, which could only mean trouble.

“Yuuri? Can you help me?” His tone didn’t seem serious at all, but Victor walked up to Yuuri – the flowy half skirt by his right side acenting the sway of his hips – and then turned around.

The zipper was open. Yuuri had full sight to Victor’s back, barely covered by the costume. The lean muscles all over his back were begging to be touched and Yuuri had to concentrate extremely hard not to let his hands wander all over it.

“The Eros costume is working a bit too well”, Yuuri thought bitterly as he pulled the zipper. He tapped Victor’s back softly, letting him know he was ready to go. He could feel the heat from Victor’s skin through the fabric and he wondered if suddenly he had a fever because it was impossible he felt that hot just from _closing a zipper_.

Victor turned to look at himself in the mirror and Yuuri watched him closely. The costume fit much closer to his skin now that the zipper was closed. The striking contrast between the black and his gray hair was stunning and it almost made Victor look dangerous. The sheer panels were spicy, but they left enough to the audience’s imagination. The only thing that was wrong about this whole image – disregarding the few size adjustments – was that Victor had the most dumbfounded smile on his lips. It wasn’t very Eros as it was so sweet and soft.

“This is beautiful.” Victor whispered touching the few gems sewn onto the costume. Yuuri felt his face burn and he ignored his comment.

“Your crotch is hanging so low it looks like an onesie, not a leotard. I need to fix that, so if you could please come here so I can pin it in place, it’d be great.” Yuuri smiled a little as he made fun of his creation. He grabbed pincushion and kneeled before Victor so he could adjust the costume.

“If this was an onesie, I would have got laid a lot more at sleepovers.” Victor commented so casually that Yuuri, who was trying to pin the pants so they hung closer to Victor’s legs, ended up giggling like an idiot. He almost poked Victor with a pin, and that would have been pretty awful.

“Who gets laid at a sleepover, Victor?!” Yuuri tried to regain composure, but it was still just too funny.

“I did?!” The model laughed and Yuuri had to join him.

“Victor, please stay still. I will end up poking you if you keep laughing like this.” Yuuri said with a smile, trying not to sound rude. He knew he’d probably die of embarrassment if he hurt Victor stupidly like _that._ The model managed to stop laughing, but he couldn’t shut up for one second; Victor told Yuuri all about his misadventures in the sleepovers he went to throughout his childhood as a model. The stories were unbelievable – he couldn’t, for the life of him, believe that Victor actually went to a sleepover with a chocolate fountain for _children_.

“Okay. That should do it. Can you walk for me?” Yuuri was one hundred percent in his serious designer mode, so much that he didn’t even blush when he asked Victor to walk _for him_. The model was eager to oblige – he skipped down the studio, dancing and singing as he went. Yuuri had no idea where Victor came up with the “ _put the bass in your walk_ ” song, but it was hilarious. The outfit fit Victor quite nicely, but because the model was goofing around, Yuuri couldn’t really tell if it fit the collection’s theme or not.

“Victor!”

“Fine.” Victor sighed and headed to the other end of the studio. His walk was a lot better now that he wasn’t making fun of Yuuri; his head was held high, obviously proud and confident. However, Victor was still smiling. It was far too much of a joyful attitude when Yuuri wanted Eros. It was hypnotizing, of course, having Victor walking privately to him, wearing an outfit he designed and smiling like an idiot, but Yuuri was too focused to care about that right now. He still needed to get Eros out of Victor _somehow_.

“Uh, Victor? Don’t get me wrong, you’re great-”

“Thanks.”

“But you’re still too… smiley.”

“I am happy.” Victor shrugged. Yuuri felt his heart skip a beat when his model said that so sincerely. He almost wanted to say “fuck it” and let him walk all around his show with that stupid smile tattooed on his lips because the world deserved to see it. But this was serious business, and Yuuri couldn’t give Victor the special treatment in any way whatsoever.

“I need you to put more Eros into it.”

“Fine.” Victor repeated, and Yuuri could hear the slightest hint of frustration. There was a shift on the model’s walk that finally gave away a small glimpse of Victor’s Eros. He was serious now; his eyes were darkened by desire and his steps were more confident – the fact that he was walking on his tiptoes, as if wearing heels helped a lot. However, there was this shadow of a smile tugging at the model’s lips every time their eyes crossed paths and Yuuri wanted more. Victor was known for being a player. He had strings of lovers and affairs everywhere he went. He wasn’t giving Yuuri half of what he could – hell, not even a tiny fraction.

“Was that better?” Victor flipped his hair out of his eyes when he turned around.

“Well, yes. But I still need more.” Yuuri smiled apologetic at his model.

“Do you want me to fuck the runway or what?!” Victor complained.

“Basically.” Yuuri replied in a heartbeat and he saw the reaction it got from the older man. His mouth fell open and he blinked a couple of times before processing what Yuuri said. Yuuri had to admit that he was embarrassed by his reply, but it was worth it because of the change in the model’s attitude after that.

He was finally serious. The smile was gone for good. Victor walked, no, he stomped his way down the studio as if he was destroying a city with his feet. His hips were swaying back and forth, giving the walk a feminine touch. That was finally was Yuuri wanted all along – this dangerous playboy mode, exhaling sex and just overall _Eros_. There was no better description of how Victor had finally incorporated the idea. The flowy fabric around his hips accentuated his hypnotic walk, and the gems around the shoulders gleamed as the light hit them from different angles. He almost wished Victor still had his hair long - however, he was pretty sure his audience would probably faint over the sight.

Victor walked right up to Yuuri, stopping when there were so few inches between them that Yuuri thought he couldn’t breathe anymore. The model ran a hand through his hair, moving it away from his blue eyes before he whispered:

“How was that?” Victor winked. Yuuri was  in working mode, but _that_ was enough to make him blush. It was too much, he wanted to say. I am probably going to need to take a cold shower, Yuuri thought.

“It was better. I should have it ready for fittings, make sure you “let your whole body talk” Eros by then.” Yuuri said. He was surprised he managed not to stammer while talking this close to Victor but also make a joke out of it. He saw the model roll his eyes and put some much needed space between them before he did something really stupid.

However, when Victor leans down to untie his shoes, Yuuri couldn’t help himself. He’s still pretty close and he can see Victor’s hair cascading forward as he leans down, a waterfall of platinum beauty that shouldn’t be real. That could not be his real hair, no, who even has a hair color that flawless? It looked so soft, Yuuri couldn’t help but imagine running his fingers through Victor’s hair and…

When he realized he had his index finger on Victor’s scalp, he automatically regretted it, even though the hair was as soft as he expected. He removed his finger just as fast as he placed it and a blush burned his cheeks.

“Sorry!”

“Is it getting that thin?” Victor asked without even glancing upwards. Yuuri felt as if he had ruined his whole existence; this was the humiliating moment the universe had been saving up for him.

“No! No, it’s not! Everything’s okay!” Yuuri, whose accent barely showed anymore from living abroad for so long, slipped nervously back into a thick Japanese accent. He was mortified. Victor hadn’t looked up yet and all Yuuri hoped was that God himself would strike him down and he’d be able to spend eternity suffering.

“I can’t recover from this.” Victor sighed and slowly lied on the floor, as if this was just as humiliating for him as it was for Yuuri. “I am hurt.” Victor exaggerated his tone and Yuuri finally felt a bit better – he had been muttering a string of ‘sorry’s for a while now. When Victor was dramatic, it meant everything was fine.

“I really am sorry.” He mumbled. “Please get up. You’ll ruin the pin placement.” Yuuri pleaded and Victor just shook his head ‘no’.

He managed to get Victor off the floor after a lot of persuading. After a few minutes he knew the model was just being childish, but there was something sweet about that. Yuuri was sure Victor really worried about losing his hair, but the fact that he lied on the floor for fifteen minutes straight showed how much of a child the man still was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter, but I'm planning on a VERY FAST update so we can all cry together because of ep 12 tomorrow.   
> Special thanks to Natalie for being the world's greatest beta and helping me out <3   
> Thank you guys sO MUCH for the kudos and comments, they're the best!!! If you have any questions or want to yell at me, I'm on twitter @moimiles.


	7. Take it easy on my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Yuuri can think is finally. It wasn’t even a coherent finally, as in “Finally, after all the teasing,” or just “Fucking finally!” It was just Yuuri repeating the word like a prayer in his head, as if it was keeping him sane in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
> There is an anxiety attack described in detail in this chapter. Please read with caution if this could trigger you!

If it wasn’t for Victor, Yuuri would have spent the next twelve hours in the studio, working on the costumes. But no, as soon as he commented his plan with the model, Victor had insisted they go home. According to him, they needed to get some food and coffee to bring to the studio for later. The model also said he couldn’t leave Makkachin alone all day, so they went back home to get prepared.

Victor and Yuuri got home right before the snow start to fall outside. Yuuri was hoping that maybe it’d stop snowing soon, especially considering that the show was rapidly approaching. His anxiety was constantly telling him that if it was a cold, snowy day, no one would come and he’d have another failure to deal with.

He didn’t want to let his anxiety take over after such a good day. Yuuri started to blabber about Agape and his ideas for the costume. He told Victor about the fabric he found, and how he was expecting it to look almost angelic. Victor had to turn it into teasing somehow, of course.

“I can only imagine how picky you will be about my walk with that outfit,” The model laughed as Yuuri closed the door to the apartment.

“Very picky. You’re supposed to be my best model, aren’t you?” Yuuri smiled a little, a faint blush coming up his cheeks. He wondered if he was ever going to stop blushing around Victor. “You still need to work on your Eros, though. It needs to be mature. Maybe you need some time to think what Eros means to you.” Yuuri turned around to look at Victor, and found the model too close to him.

He was used to getting a little flustered when Victor was close to him. That was normal now; it was something he could deal with. However, his model was in a whole new level today. Victor placed his hands on the door, trapping Yuuri between it and Victor. There was such intensity in the model’s eyes that the designer thought they could probably burn holes through his door.

Victor started leaning towards Yuuri slowly. His blue eyes were half closed, as if he wanted to close them but still wanted to watch. Yuuri felt the tip of Victor’s cold nose touch his temple, his breath on Yuuri’s face. He traced down Yuuri’s face slowly, and the designer thought he must have died and gone to some kind of paradise.

Yuuri thought that this kind of proximity would make him panic. Victor seemed overall immersed in desire, something that Yuuri wasn’t used to seeing. All Yuuri can think is _finally_. It wasn’t even a coherent finally, as in “Finally, after all the teasing,” or just “Fucking finally!” It was just Yuuri repeating the word like a prayer in his head, as if it was keeping him sane in that moment.

He noticed Victor’s gaze shift from his eyes to his lips for what must have been a millisecond. Victor brought a hand to his chin, making Yuuri look up to meet the model’s eyes. Yuuri’s knees went _weak_ and he was glad the door was there to lean on. Victor was so close Yuuri could feel the man’s breath hovering over his face, and then he gave Yuuri a crooked smile. Yuuri suddenly barely understood what Victor was saying:

“Are you sure I don’t understand mature Eros?”

Cue the mirrors breaking. 

Victor was toying with him. Yuuri suddenly couldn’t breathe and his lungs felt like they were filled with cement. Of course Victor wasn’t seriously making a move on him. Why would he even think that? Stupid. Yuuri had no experience whatsoever and was trying to tell the expert what to do. Victor was always teasing him, sure, but this was crossing a line. Yuuri felt tears prickling his eyes and all he knew was that he needed to go _somewhere else_.

So he shoved Victor’s arm out of the way. He was too obsessed with the idea of being alone. He could feel himself watching the situation from afar, as if he was miles away from his body, and that could only mean trouble. He didn’t notice how shocked Victor was. Yuuri just grumbled whatever came to his mind.

“Maybe you should work on your Agape instead.” And then proceeded to lock himself in the sewing room.

He was alone. It all happened so fast it took him a second to realize where he was and how he got there. Yuuri knew he was breathing, of course. He hadn’t dropped dead, and yet he couldn’t feel the air coming into his lungs. His chest felt tight, as if someone had tied a knot with his veins and it didn’t matter how much effort he put into untying it, he’d never be able to do so.

Yuuri lowered himself to the ground. He couldn’t stop seeing the scene with Victor behind his own eyelids. Every time he heard Victor ask him if his Eros was mature enough, Yuuri felt less air coming through his lungs. He couldn’t focus on anything else but that one _stupid_ moment. He knew that he had been staring at his sewing machine for a good five minutes now, but he couldn’t look away; he couldn’t move or think rationally right now.

There was a knock on the door. Yuuri almost jumped out of his skin and the scare made his eyes burn with tears. He hated just how vulnerable he was whenever he got into these slumps. He knew that he needed to go and act like nothing had happened, but just thinking about interacting with Victor, no, _anyone_ , was an effort too big.

“Yuuri?” Victor called from the other side of the door. The small rational part of Yuuri knew he should say something, even if just tell him to go away, but he couldn’t. Yuuri chose to ignore Victor and try to calm down on his own. He heard his footsteps walking away after a few minutes, and that relieved the designer a little.

He lost track of time. He may have sat on the floor for five minutes or five hours, he had no idea. Yuuri was finally able to stop obsessing over what happened. The first thing he noticed his sore back from sitting against the door for too long. He also noticed he had Victor’s costumes in his bag, which was still around his body. He grabbed the Agape costume and decided to do his favorite thing – sew.

His sewing machine at home wasn’t nearly as good as the one from the studio, but it was good enough to attach the glittery fabric to the costume. He could probably reinforce the stitches at the shop later, but right now he needed to keep his hands working – there was something relaxing about sewing. It was methodical. You run into problems, of course, but as long as you follow the same rules, it generally turns out fine.

Yuuri was working on the sleeves when he started to feel the air coming into his lungs again. He had just attached the collar when he noticed he was starving – it was probably way past lunch time. His anxiety always got way worse when he worked on an empty stomach. He should take a shower, eat something and have a long nap to avoid another nasty anxiety attack.

Yuuri gathered his courage and left the sewing room. He had no idea what time it was, but he headed to the kitchen to get something to eat. The fresh air from outside the sewing room helped clear his head a little, and while he was nervous to be out of his safe room, he was also feeling better not being locked up. It didn’t really make sense, and Yuuri too mentally tired to try and make sense of his quirks.

He made toast and tea – the caffeine really spiked his anxiety in times like this – mechanically. Yuuri thought he was being watched, but he blamed it on his post-attack state of mind and tried not to look over his shoulder and give into his paranoia. He slathered his toast in cream cheese and added sugar to his tea. The sweetness was soothing and he felt a little better when he started to eat.

“Hey,” Victor’s voice interrupted Yuuri’s thinking. “Have I ever told you the story of how I peed my pants in front of all my classmates in second grade?”

Victor’s bait made Yuuri look at the model. He was leaning in the doorway, a small smile on his lips. It almost looked sad, but as the designer found out earlier today, he didn’t know Victor that well. He rolled his eyes at his toast.

“There was this stupid magic show our teacher took us to, and I was picked for audience participation.” Victor carried on, his blue eyes were distant as he remembered the event. “They gave me a cup of water, and I don’t even remember what the magic trick was, but I thought it was the most amazing thing I’d ever saw. I started to laugh and laugh and I ended up peeing my pants. In front of everyone I knew.” Victor laughed a little and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at the image.

“But it gets better, Yuuri,” He said the designer’s name affectionately and _blushed_. Yuuri couldn’t believe he was watching it with his very own eyes. “One of my teachers noticed I had peed myself and took me to the bathroom. She told me to lie and say that this was part of the magic trick, that somehow that water appeared in my pants.” The model was laughing now and Yuuri couldn’t help it, he snorted. “I still can’t believe that all of my classmates actually thought that it was part of the trick.”

“Me neither,” Yuuri was full on laughing now. He felt as if there was a weight lifted off his shoulders and even though his laugh was not as genuine as it could be, he was thankful. Victor was so understanding that it hurt. He didn’t ask Yuuri what was wrong, but he somehow knew something was off. Yuuri was grateful the man didn’t try to make him explain or try to touch him again – whenever Yuuri got anxious, he didn’t like to be touched at all.

So Yuuri just smiled at Victor, hoping it would get his thankfulness across. He knew now an undeniable truth; he had feelings for Victor. Would it be his downfall? Definitely. Yuuri tried so hard to ignore, just pretending that his feelings for Victor were just a dumb childhood crush, but seeing how fast Victor could break him or make him just showed how genuine it was. He was in love, and he couldn’t run away from it anymore.

Yuuri finished his food listening to Victor talk about other stories from his childhood. While they were funny and entertaining, Yuuri was still exhausted. He needed a nap but was still too wired up and worried about the show to rest. He finally realized that his Agape costume needed a lot of work still and he had only a couple of days before the fittings.

He needed to get back to the studio so he finally did what they first came home to do: grab food and coffee. He knew he had some chips and cereal bars stashed somewhere in his cupboards, and as soon as he found them he put them in a plastic bag. He left the bag by the entrance door so not to forget about it.

Then, Yuuri went to his room to change into a heavier sweater. It was probably going to be colder outside now that it was snowing and he couldn’t risk getting a cold, not now. He was going to ask Victor to dress warm as well, but then he remembered that Victor was Russian. It was probably hot for him outside.

“Victor, are you ready to go back to the studio?” Yuuri asked as he walked out of his room.

“Yes, and so is Makkachin.” Victor was sitting on the couch. Makkachin was right next to him, his tail waggling with excitement.

“Let’s go, then.” He smiled a little at Victor.

This time, they walked to the studio. Makkachin was too excited to get into a cab, not that the cab drivers would let the big poodle in anyway. Yuuri felt the cold chilling him to the bone, but he was happy to be out with the two. He could feel a routine settling in - walking to the studio with Victor and then coming home late each evening. He wouldn’t complain if that happened every day for the rest of his life.

He shook those thoughts out of his head before his heart got too hopeful. Yuuri opened the studio for the second time that day, hoping that now he’d get some real work done. He needed to add temporary stitches to Victor’s Eros costume and finish the man’s Agape costume in time. If there were any other complications, he might end up being late. If he didn’t have all the costumes ready for fittings, he’d have a workload so big for before the actual runway he’d probably have a heart attack.

He started working on Victor’s Agape costume before the universe decided to interrupt him. Victor was distracting Makkachin, talking to him in English this time. It was so sweet. There it was, that feeling of domesticity taking over Yuuri’s heart.

The moment was ruined pretty fast when a third voice interrupted them.

“Nikiforov!” And then a string of words that made no sense whatsoever to Yuuri. Victor turned his head, so he assumed whoever was talking was speaking Russian. Now that Yuri was inside, he noticed he forgot to lock the door. He needed to stop being such an airhead.

“Yuri?” Victor asked. Yuuri turned his head, but apparently Victor was not talking to him, but to the blond haired boy now in his studio. Yuuri had thought that Victor was going to be the only celebrity in his studio, but now here was Yuri Plisetsky, standing right in the middle of the studio and screaming at his model.

Yuuri was ready to throw up. Not only was Yuri Plisetsky known as Victor’s protégé, but also for being a bad boy. And not the cute bad boy, he was just evil. Yuuri was terrified of him. He had such a wild personality that transcended into his runways and photoshoots and that’s why the whole world loved him.

“Why are you working in this shit show, Victor?” He finally yelled in English. Yuuri was so distracted he almost sewn his fingers into Victor’s costume. “You were supposed to be with _me_ in my debut for Prada, you asshole.”

“Oh, right,” Victor smiled as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Yuuri is fantastic, really. You should be nice.”

“You!” Yuri turned to point finger at Yuuri, who was still too shocked to express any reactions. “If Victor is taking a spot on this shit show, you better fit me into it too!”

“What?! I-, uh, I think I could probably do that, I-” Yuuri stammered in surprise.

“I won’t take no for an answer!” Yuri yelled even louder. “And if this is a disaster, I will personally see to your retirement, you idiot.”

“Yuri. He already said yes. Don’t be rude,” Victor laughed from where he was petting Makkachin. “Is it okay, Yuuri?” The model turned his eyes to the designer, who was still too star struck to be able to comprehend the situation clearly.

“Yes. I had a couple of... uh, designs left, but I w-will have to work harder to finish them by the fittings.” Yuuri forced himself to get into his serious work mode to avoid embarrassing himself. “Victor, do you know how to take measurements? Yuri is pretty short, I might have to make big adjustments and I rather work on-”

“I’m not short!” The Russian yelled, and Yuuri was thankful Victor intervened because he had the slight feeling he would get punched soon.

“For a model, you are short. And yes, Yuuri. I’m not an idiot.” Victor laughed. “Come on, Yuri. Where do you keep the tape measure?”

“There should be one by the mannequins.” Yuuri turned his attention back to his work. He could feel his anxiety spiking. Not only did he have to finish Victor’s Eros and Agape outfit, he’d have to finish two outfits for Yuri. He knew it was insane to let him join this late, but it was _Yuri Plisetsky_. If he was getting recognition from Victor, imagine how far he’d go with both Russians. He knew Minako would kill him if he didn’t let Yuri model.

Oh, right. He should call Minako. She was going to yell at him for sure, but there was a big probability she was going to be ecstatic about the new addition. Yuuri texted her, asking to call him as soon as she could, and he turned his attention back to the Agape outfit he had been working on.

He could hear Yuri and Victor speaking in Russian but he couldn’t quite tell if they were arguing or if the language just made it sound like that. Yuri was constantly yelling too, helping to make it look like an argument. But Victor was speaking calmly, the language rolling off his tongue with the seductiveness of French. It was beautiful, and Yuuri wished he could learn it someday.

Yuuri focused on his work after that. After sewing on the glittery fabric, he took a good hard look at his creation. It was beautiful, but the fabric was too intense. He should add some black lace over it. Right now it didn’t connect with the Eros outfit at all, so the darker color should help. Yuuri wandered around the studio, trying to find a lacy fabric that had a very wide pattern; he didn’t want the pattern to hide too much of the glitter underneath.

Yuuri forgot how much he hated working with lacy fabrics. They were a pain in the ass. He had to devote a hundred percent of his attention to it. He did manage to sew it on without any problems, but his hands were hurting from working so hard. His back was also starting to hurt, so he was thankful that the worst was over. He was about to start working on the details on the pants and shoulders when he noticed Victor standing next to him.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Yuuri smiled a little. “Did Yuri leave?”

“Yes, a while ago. I told him you’d get in touch about the fittings.” Victor’s brows were furrowed in confusion.

“Was Yuri Plisetsky really in my studio?” Yuuri laughed a little.

“Yup. Big day, huh?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri sighed. It had been an incredibly long day and there was still hours of work ahead of him. At least he had some snacks, coffee, and Victor to keep him company.

“You should probably get some rest,” Victor said, his voice playful as if he was teasing Yuuri.

“I need to finish this, Victor. The fittings are in two days and your Agape outfit is nowhere near done.”

“You can finish it tomorrow, _solnyshko,_ ” The model pleaded. It was the second time Yuuri had heard that word and he wished he could understand what it meant. It was probably something like “you dumb idiot”, he assumed. Honestly, Victor could be saying “firetruck” and Yuuri would feel warm inside. He really was a dumb idiot.

Yuuri let Victor drag him outside the studio. He was exhausted, and really needed a shower and some sleep. It was still snowing during their walk home. Makkachin was excited to be outside, and was running around them like a puppy. There was a fresh layer of snow everywhere, and while it was beautiful, Yuuri felt like he was freezing.

So the shower he took when he got to the apartment was a blessing. The hot water warmed him and relaxed his muscles. He was almost falling asleep standing up when he turned off the water. Yuuri was acting like a baby, he knew that, but he was so warm and sleepy he didn’t want anything but his bed.

Yuuri tucked himself under the covers and set an alarm for early in the morning. He promised himself to wake up, eat something, and go straight back to the studio. He wouldn’t come out until he had finished all he had to do – four outfits. Yuuri hoped he remembered to go to the drug store and buy some pain killers. His hands, head, and back were going to need it.

“Yuuri!” Victor’s voice echoed down the hall and then there was a knock on the door. “Let’s have a sleepover! Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Yuuri was too tired to argue.

“Okay.”

Victor walked in smiling so brightly it was almost blinding. Makkachin walked into the room with him, lying on the end of the bed, on top of Yuuri’s feet. The large dog was very warm and cuddly – Yuuri didn’t have the heart to complain. Then he felt the weight of the mattress shift in an oddly familiar way. He turned around and Victor is lying next to him.

Yuuri knew he shouldn’t stare, but he couldn’t help it. Victor’s eyes were so beautiful that it was hard not to get sucked into them. The model was also very sleepy; Yuuri could tell from his smaller-than-usual eyes and the blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Yuuri heard himself saying.

“For what?” The model frowned in confusion.

“I-uh, I don’t really know exactly, I just feel like I needed to thank you. It’s been a long day and I’ve-”

“That’s okay,” Victor interrupted Yuuri’s ramblings with a shy smile on his lips.

He saw Victor raise a hand, probably to touch him, but the model froze in place as soon as he moved. His hand was still up for a few seconds, and then he lowered it. Yuuri wondered if Victor wasn’t touching him because of the whole fiasco that morning. That thought made something break inside Yuuri’s chest.

It was weird, really. Yuuri couldn’t understand just what Victor wanted. He toyed with Yuuri, and then he was sweet. He took care of Yuuri, yet teased the living hell out of him. It was like Victor was trying to drive him crazy on purpose. What if the man knew about Yuuri’s feelings and was just messing around with him?! What if he knew and he was-

“Stop thinking so hard, Yuuri,” Victor mumbled. “You’ll strain yourself.”

“Good night, Victor.” Yuuri sighed, rolling away from the model before he thought too much.

“Sleep well, Yuuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISED I'D POST SOMETHING TODAY!! It's a little longer than usual to make up for the previous chapter. :) As usual, thank you Natalie for being the most amazing beta ever <3   
> Thanks again for the kudos and comments, you guys are the sweetest???? I always get so stupid when there's a new comment lmao  
> I'm always on twitter @moimiles if you want to yell at me ;)


	8. You’re so worth all of this torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fittings were usually easygoing model wise. They were all professionals; even though Yuuri didn't hire the biggest models in the business, they were all experienced and well-behaved. He even had close friendships with a couple of them, like Phichit.  
> It was a surprise for him that the hardest models to work with were the stars of the show. Victor and Yuri were just awful.

If Yuuri had to describe the past couple of days in a word, it’d be chaotic. He spent days holed up in his studio, working hard enough to make workaholics around the globe jealous. He had so much to do – Victor’s outfits, Yuri’s outfits, planning for the fittings… Yuuri would get home late and leave early, have painkillers for breakfast and dinner and drink enough coffee to make his heart skip beats.

Coffee wasn’t the only thing making his heart skip though: Victor.

Yuuri hated cliché metaphors, but Victor was an anchor. He was the one making sure Yuuri got at least a couple of hours of sleep every night. He made sure Yuuri was eating properly. Two things basic for human survival, but when Yuuri got into his work mode, he just _forgot_.

That already meant a lot to Yuuri, but the model didn’t stop there; Of course he didn’t. Victor made sure Yuuri was having fun. He would crack stupid jokes in the middle of the day, tell Yuuri his most unbelievable stories… Yuuri had to admit that the model was keeping him sane. There was huge pressure on Yuuri considering his show, which now had two incredibly known models. His last collection had been an immense failure. Every time Yuuri allowed himself to think about it, he would feel shivers going down his spine.

And every time Victor would notice, encouraging him with some cheeky comment. Victor would tease him mercilessly sometimes, and even though he always went a step too far, it was always successful in distracting Yuuri. He was a blushing mess around his model whenever he did that, but the warm cozy feeling in his chest was always worth it.

However, that feeling confused Yuuri. It confused him so much. These last couple of days Yuuri had been going crazy trying to crack the “Victor code”. In one second he was the sweetest man on earth, and in the other he’d make fun of Yuuri. He would create tension so thick it could be cut with a butter knife and dissolve it in a second. Yuuri couldn’t read him – he couldn’t find out just what was happening. He would reach a thousand conclusions in the same day just to lay his head on the pillow at night and get mad because he understood _nothing_.

Reaching a conclusion was so hard because there were so many variables. The first one was, of course, cultural differences. Maybe the Russians were just extremely affectionate. Then there was the fact that Victor was working for Yuuri; while he did much more than just model, he was bound to a contract to walk the runway for his brand. However, he was sure that no model would sleep in the same bed with their designers, or make them breakfast. Yuuri also considered that maybe that was just Victor – maybe the model just liked taking care of others, like his own little charity project.

The only conclusion that Yuuri could reach was that he was going to miss Victor when the man left. That was a universal truth. He tried so hard to avoid getting used to the model’s presence, to the feeling of a crowded apartment, but he couldn’t. And it would be his demise.

He was painfully aware of that when his alarm rang early on the day of the fittings, as he woke up in Victor’s arms. So far, they had managed to keep their distance one from the other while sleeping and Yuuri prayed to God that if they ever woke up touching, he wouldn’t be the one doing the holding.

It was Victor today. His arms were wrapped around Yuuri protectively. His body was so close too; they were basically spooning and he felt his face heat up. He could feel Victor’s breath move his hair across his face and it tickled a little. Yuuri felt _safe_. It was stupid, really. There wasn’t anything that Victor could protect him from considering they were locked inside the apartment, but that didn’t make the feeling less genuine.

God, he wished he didn’t have to get up. To hell with the fittings and the other models, who gave a crap? He was so warm and comfortable and he just _knew_ that it would be cold and snowy outside. His luck didn’t work any other way – good things would happen but they were always shortly followed by really bad things.

So Yuuri took a second to memorize the feeling of being in Victor’s arms – he’d never admit it though, not even to himself – and got up. Victor grumbled something in his sleep but it was still too early; the man just turned and went back to sleep. Yuuri sighed, but went on with his day.

He had breakfast, showered, and got dressed a little smarter for the fittings. He always tried to put out a good image of himself when he was interacting with people. It was extremely early, but there was still so much to do; he would rather get to the studio and get bored when he finished his tasks than to get there late and stress himself out. He needed to be in a good mood today.

Right before leaving, with almost two hours to spare, he walked into the room again. Victor was still sleeping with Makkachin snoring softly next to him. He couldn’t help but smile at the picture. He sat down on the bed next to Victor and softly shook his shoulder, trying to get the man to wake up.

“Victor?”

“Hmmmm,” he whined.

“Victor, you need to be at the shop-”

“I’m cold,” the model groaned. One of Victor’s hands was reaching out, as if looking for something, and stopped when it found Yuuri’s thigh.

“Victor, you’re Russian and it’s warm inside.”

“I’m cold,” he dragged out the sound of the last word and hugged Yuuri’s leg. The designer looked up to the ceiling, asking God what he had done to deserve Victor in his life. The man was a child.

“You need to be at the shop in one hour for the fittings,” Yuuri warned him. The model didn’t say anything, only humming in agreement. “I’m serious, Victor.”

“Fine,” the Russian complained.

Yuuri left the room with a small smile. That smile hung onto his lips for a long time; he was still smirking at the image of Victor being clingy when he got to the studio. It was a particularly cold morning, snowy and quite windy, so Yuuri was surprised to see so many people gathering around his studio.

The first thing that popped on his mind was that something horrible had happened to his shop. Someone broke into it in the middle of the night. Someone got murdered by his door. Those were the only explanations his brain was able to come up with.

However, when he got closer to the shop he finally understood. The mass of people in front of his door were reporters. And photographers too, considering the blinding flashes of light that exploded right before his eyes.

Everyone wanted to talk to him. He heard his name being called over and over, their questions being muddled together. Yuuri was so confused; he had no reaction. It was also incredibly overwhelming; if he concentrated he could hear a few familiar sounding words, but aside from that, he was completely lost.

Then Minako saved his butt. She walked right in the middle of all of the reporters and shoved Yuuri inside. He could hear her speaking to the media from the inside of the shop, and had no idea how she was so good at it. He had spent only five seconds in front of the cameras and was already exhausted.

“Are you okay? I forgot to tell you about the army of Nikiforov fans on our doorstep.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“I’ve already called someone to help us with them. The producer had said that it could happen, so he was prepared. We got really lucky. Can you imagine how messy it would be to have the models arriving while we have that mob of reporters out there?” Minako laughed.

“Yeah.” Yuuri felt his body relaxing. They really did dodge a bullet; the designer felt his heart hammering in his chest as he realized it. He needed to get busy before he got anxious, an anxiety attack was the last thing he wanted to happen during the already tiring day he’d have.

“Yuuri!” The designer turned around to when he heard his name being called to find one of his closest friends in the studio.

"Phichit, hey!” A moment later Phichit hugged Yuuri so tight he couldn't breathe for a second.

"How are you?”

“Too busy to do anything but work,’’ Yuuri laughed. “And you?”

“I'm so glad you’re working again,’’ he said softly.

“I'm glad to be working too,” Yuuri smiled sincerely at the model.

"So…” Phichit smiled like the devil and Yuuri knew that something was going down. "Victor, huh?”

“Yeah, what about him?’’ Yuuri tried to speak as casually as possible. The last thing he needed to worry about was Phichit finding out about his feelings for Victor because Phichit knew the designer too well.

“That must be strange, you know, working that closely with your idol.”

“It was surprisingly fun. Took me a few days to get used to him, though. Hey, did you manage to get a hotel? Apparently it’s pretty hard to get one around this time.”

“Yeah, pretty easily too. Why?”

“Oh. In Manhattan?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Oh.” Yuuri heard himself being repetitive, but he was too confused to do anything about it. How did Phichit find a hotel so easily when Victor had been struggling for days now?

“Yuuri, why are you asking? Where is the poop?” Phichit squinted at Yuuri.

“Wait, what? What are you talking about Phichit?!”

“Something smells funky in this story, Yuuri. So, I’m gonna ask again: Where. Is. The. Poop?”

“Oh. That was a... weird expression.”

“Yuuri!”

“Okay! Well, I was just worried, cause - uh... Victor couldn’t, really, find a hotel room for the life of him.” Yuuri looked away from his friend to hide the blush climbing up his neck.

“Oh damn, where is he staying then? Oh my God, if _Victor Nikiforov_ is staying in a college dorm or something nearly as ridiculous, I _need_ photographic evidence!”

“Uh, no, not really, well-I, it’s kinda ridiculous.”

“Yuuri… Where is he staying?”

“Maybe he’s staying at my apartment?” Yuuri’s reply sounded like a question.

“Oh my God, that’s why you’re glowing,” Phichit mumbled, stunned.

“Glowing? What?”

“Yuuri, I need your most sincere answer now, okay? For the sake of our friendship, I need your honesty.” Phichit laid a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, the model’s eyes softening as he spoke. Yuuri almost expected him to ask something really deep and meaningful, but he knew better than to expect anything too serious from his friend.

He nodded, “Sure.”

“Did you hit that?”

“Phichit!” Yuuri almost yelled, feeling his blush bloom all over his face, probably reaching a solid ‘crimson’ on the blushing scale.

“You’re gonna have to be more articulate than that, see, your face right now tells me yes, but your tone tells me no. Which one is it, Yuuri?” His friend grinned.

“No! It’s- no!”

“...Do you wanna hit that?”

“He’s my _model_ , Phichit.” Yuuri hated that he couldn’t stop blushing. He really needed to do some research on how to stop blushing like a schoolgirl. There was probably a WikiHow on that somewhere.

“You do!” Phichit laughed. “You totally do! I can’t blame you, I-”

“It’s not like that.”

“So it’s like _something_?” Phichit smiled again and Yuuri threw the nearest thing at him, missing his being entirely. It was just scrap fabric, but he did kinda wish he had thrown something heavy like a sewing machine. Phichit could be a real asshole when he wanted to.

“Can you _please_ go get dressed? You’re supposed to walk a runway for me, remember?”

“You’re just jealous,” Phichit laughed. “Fine, but don’t you think for one second that we’re done with this conversation, Katsuki.”

“Fine!” Yuuri complained and shoved Phichit into the nearest fitting room.

He had a little time to catch up with Phichit before the other models started to arrive. From there on it was a haze of faces and outfits. Yuuri barely had time to talk to the models and get to know them like he wished he could; the designer was putting maximum effort into his work, barely able to do everything he needed to.

He vaguely registered Yuri arriving - the crowd outside got a loud rowdier and the studio suddenly filled with angry Russian curse words. Well, Yuuri assumed they were curse words, given the teen’s tendencies, although he had no Russian vocabulary whatsoever.

The fittings were usually easygoing model wise. They were all professionals; even though Yuuri didn't hire the biggest models in the business, almost all of them usually had plenty of experience and were well-behaved. He even had close friendships with a couple of them, like Phichit.

It was a surprise for him that the hardest models to work with were the stars of the show. Victor and Yuri were just awful.

Yuri was a complainer and a yeller. Yuuri couldn't focus on his work for five minutes without having the teen yell at him or complain about the fabric or the fit. He threatened Yuuri in various ways - “I'm ending your career if you poke me with a pin” - and rambled in angry Russian constantly. Not to mention that he wouldn't stand still for more than thirty seconds.

It took him as long as Phichit's whole fitting to fix only small problems on Yuri's Agape costume. Yuuri always thought of himself as a pretty patient person, but he'd be damned if he didn't want to yell at Yuri. He almost poked the Russian teen with a sewing needle when he yelled again.

“You're late, you old bag of piss!”

“A queen is never late, the other are simply early,” Victor flaunted loudly. And then, “Am I really?” Victor's whispered to him.

“Yes.” The designer grumbled. He couldn't believe it - Victor was _blocks_ away from the studio and somehow managed to be late. The urge to poke someone with a sewing needle was increasing by the minute and Yuuri prayed he didn't end up poking Yuri; that would be suicide.

“You're done,’’ he told Yuri. "Be careful taking off the costume, it's only pinned to place.”

“I'm not stupid,’’ Yuri grumbled as he walked away.

“Is it my turn now?” Victor approached him with a smile. He had a cup of fancy coffee in his hands - definitely not the one he was offering in the studio. The model still had his sunglasses on.

“It was fifteen minutes ago,’’ Yuuri grumbled. “Go put on your Eros outfit.”

“Can I finish my coffee?”

“Victor, I will make you sleep in the couch,” The designer threatened in a low voice. An amused smirk grew across Victor's lips, but he obeyed Yuuri.

But if Yuuri thought that Yuri's fittings were bad, he had no idea what Victor had in store for him.

As soon as the model stepped out in the Eros costume - now much more fitted to his body - Yuuri felt his heart hammering in his chest. Victor was embodying Eros this time, his blue eyes were darkened dangerously and even though he only walked a couple of steps, the sway of his hips was hypnotizing. Yuuri was thankful that the studio wasn't as crowded, because anyone could have noticed how much he blushed.

He tried to be objective, tried with all of his being, but Victor was walking towards him, licking his lips almost obscenely. Yuuri felt the need to remind the model that the Eros he wanted wasn’t pornography.

And then he had to fix the legs - they were still a little too loose around the thighs. Yuuri thought he was going to die of a nosebleed because Victor kept shoving his hips forward. When he did it the first time Yuuri blushed so hard he felt the need to take off his sweater, but the designer brushed it off as an accident. Then he did it a second time. Yuuri, trying to find a reasonable explanation, thought that maybe Victor felt ticklish around his thighs. Maybe that was the issue.

But Victor did a third time. Yuuri looked up, about to ask if he was poking him or something, but then he saw the devilish smile on the model's lips and he _knew_ it was on purpose.

It was torture. Victor kept laughing at him, and it only made him have to concentrate harder to do his job properly. He was tempted to poke him with a needle, but he didn't want to be unprofessional, like _certain people were_.

He managed, somehow, to finish the Eros costume without dying. It was a miracle, really, considering how much effort Victor was putting into killing Yuuri from sheer embarrassment.

Victor went off to take off the Eros costume and try on the Agape one. Yuuri hoped that his foul attitude was limited to the Eros costume; he probably would have to fix more things on the Agape costume and he was not feeling like dying today.

The model walked out and Yuuri was speechless for a whole second. There wasn't any other word to describe Victor but _ethereal_. The combination of his pale skin, silver hair, and the glittery fabric made him look like an angel. Yuuri couldn't help but feel a little emotional; this was, after all, one of his biggest dreams coming true. Victor was wearing something he designed - and Yuuri felt proud of his work this time.

Surprisingly, there wasn't a lot to fix. The thighs, thank God, were hanging just tight enough. The only problems were the neck, it needed to be a bit tighter, and the shoulder pieces - Yuuri wanted to make them a bit more extravagant.

Yuuri thought that after the thighs incident, it wouldn't get any worse. It couldn't, right? He had a big storm coming.

Yuuri started working on the neck, having to stand on his tiptoes a little to have full access to the piece. He was almost done with it when Victor turned his head, almost making them bump foreheads. Yuuri could feel Victor's breath on his face, so warm and inviting… And yet he had to pin fabric in place. With Victor's face too close to his it was hard to breathe, let alone think about work.

“I will poke you with a pin, Victor,” he managed to grumble, but his voice was a whisper. Victor laughed, and turned his head shortly after, letting Yuuri carry on with his job. He finished it as fast as he could and sent the model away to get changed.

He then realized that Victor was the only model left - he had successfully survived the fittings. It was unbelievable how fast it went by. Looking back now, it felt like a blur of pins and stress. He suddenly had so many changes to apply to the outfits that the amount of work was almost overwhelming.

Yuuri got started right away. Some of the outfits just needed temporary stitches while others needed a lot of work. He decided to start with the easier parts and then work his way to the harder ones.

He vaguely registered Minako talking to him - something about the meeting they'd have the next day. Yuuri would have to call her and ask about it later. The designer devoted his attention to his work and his work alone. It was noticeable by the way the movement in the shop shrunk, and then stopped entirely, that he had been working for a while. The designer was committed; he had slept a solid 6 hours the previous night and he could probably pull an all-nighter.

“Yuuri?”

“Hmm?” He turned around to find Victor right next to him.

“That’s enough for today, _solnyshko_.”

“I still have a lot to do and-”

“You always say that and I always convince you otherwise. Come on, I want to take you somewhere nice.”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of Victor taking him someplace nice, but if he was honest, anywhere was nice if Victor was with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so so sorry for taking so long to update. Here's what happened: a couple weeks ago my house got broken into, and unfortunately I was home. They took my laptop and my phone, but thankfully nothing happened to me. So, I didn't have a computer to write or felt like writing.  
> But!!! I feel much better now, so we're going back to the usual one/twice a week updates. Thank you guys so much for reading!  
> Oh, and God bless Phichit for letting me write my usual crazy ass characters. What a precious boy.   
> I'm on twitter @moimiles, if anyone want to yell at/with me. <3


	9. Don't ruin a perfect thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever skated before Yuuri?”  
> “Uh, I used to when I was a child but- Oh.” Yuuri stopped mid-sentence when he realized where Victor was heading. He could finally see the Rockefeller Center skating rink in front of him.

 

Victor always looked funny in his incognito mode. Yuuri used to think that the man could pull off anything, but a beanie and sunglasses was most definitely not his best look. However, he needed to hide his most recognizable features - the blue eyes and the platinum hair - so it was understandable.

That didn't stop Yuuri from giggling a little every time he glanced at Victor.

They got a cab after Yuuri closed the store. Victor told the driver the address and while Yuuri had a mental map of where that was, he had no idea what Victor wanted around the Nintendo store near the Rockefeller Center.

God, he'd kill Victor if “somewhere nice” was the _Nintendo store_. As they got out of the car, he was ready to ask Victor what the hell they planned on doing there when the model spoke up:

“I don't know if I ever mentioned this…” he started, “but I used to ice skate when I was younger.”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri, who most certainly knew that from reading about Victor on the internet countless times, pretended to be surprised. He was lucky the model wasn’t looking at him.

“Yeah, I was actually pretty good. I even got to win a few competitions before my modeling career took over. I had to choose between skating or modeling, and I picked modeling.”

“Would you consider going back to skating someday?”

“Well, I never stopped skating,” Victor smirked as they walked. “I always go to rinks whenever I have the opportunity. It’s a shame I can’t risk doing anything overly complicated though - I can’t damage my body - but I still have a passion for it.”

“That’s nice,” Yuuri smiled.

“Have you ever skated before Yuuri?”

“Uh, I used to when I was a child but- Oh.” Yuuri stopped mid-sentence when he realized where Victor was heading. He could finally see the Rockefeller Center skating rink in front of him.

Yuuri tried really hard not to lose his composure, but _come on._ Victor was taking him ice skating at one of the most beautiful places in New York. The trees around the rink were wrapped in shiny Christmas lights while beautiful golden statues dotted its edges, not to mention the couples skating together. Yuuri couldn’t deny that this was verging on romantic.

He let Victor lead the way into the skating rink. Yuuri was speechless for a good while, unable to find words that didn’t sound incredibly cheesy. As they were getting their skates, he kept thinking that this was almost as if Victor was inviting him into his world. This was something Victor was passionate about, something he kept close to his heart, and he was sharing it with Yuuri.

How was this a designer/model relationship?

“Yuuri, if you’re tired we can always go do something else,” Victor interrupted his inner monologue. He was a lot taller with the skates on. Yuuri felt as if the model was towering over him.

“No, it’s-it’s fine. I’m just thinking. I haven’t skated in a long time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you if you fall.” Victor winked and Yuuri had to roll his eyes at the model. He wouldn’t fall - who was he, a five year old? He was a grown man. He was getting a little tired of Victor being so good at everything. He was going to go out there, skate perfectly, and make Victor flustered for a change.

Needless to say, that did not happen. Yuuri’s luck was working again - extremely unlucky at first, but somehow lucky right afterwards.

Yuuri stepped on the ice and followed Victor around for a few minutes. He felt a little wobbly, and even though his thighs were shaking a little, he was doing just fine. But then he looked up to watch Victor skate, which was _definitely_ a sight for sore eyes.

Victor seemed immersed in his own world, somewhere very far away. He almost looked as if he wasn’t skating, but flying. His movements were delicate and fluid; it reminded Yuuri a lot of the way Victor walked down the runway.

Yuuri was suddenly distracted by Victor’s skating and stopped focusing on his own. He tripped on air, falling on his butt. He felt the pain and the cold of the ice spreading quickly throughout his body and he felt so humiliated he just wanted to go home. He was about to try and get up when Victor turned and offered him a hand with a coy smile on his lips.

Yuuri had half a mind to tell him to go to hell.

If he wasn’t half frozen he would have. However, he needed to get up, so he accepted Victor’s help and got to his feet. The model started skating away again, but he didn’t let go of Yuuri’s hand.

“Just to keep you from falling again,” Victor smiled before Yuuri could ask.

Maybe he could keep Yuuri from falling on the ice, but he couldn’t keep Yuuri from falling for him.

It was impossible not to, really. The sky was darkening as the sun set; They were holding hands and ice skating together. The scenery around them was so enchanting Yuuri almost felt like he was living in a fairy tale. Victor smiled at him so warmly that the cold breeze around them was somehow refreshing - and Yuuri couldn't help but smile back.

“You're surprisingly good at this,” Victor commented.

“I told you, I used to ice skate when I was younger. There was a rink very close to my home. You expected me to be awful, didn't you?’’ Yuuri glared at the model but Victor just laughed it off.

“I've seen you trip and fall on _air_ plenty of times. You can't blame me.”

“While that is true, I've seen my fair share of klutziness from you too,” Yuuri teased. “For a model, you can be pretty ungraceful.”

“When have I ever been ungraceful?!” Victor even slowed down his rhythm to glare a Yuuri. The model’s hand unconsciously tightened it's grip against Yuuri's.

“You almost tripped on your poor dog just a few days ago.”

“That's different, I was in a rush,” Victor pouted a little, making him look younger.

"Well, then you can't blame me for tripping when there was ice on the sidewalk.”

“I didn't trip, did I? Same conditions, yet very different results… Interesting,” the model smirked.

“You fell on the runway on a fashion week in 2008!”

"How dare you bring that up?! Those heels were a disaster Yuuri. A disaster!” Victor almost let go of Yuuri's hand because of his big and dramatic gestures. Yuuri started giggling at the model until both of them were laughing so hard they had to hold onto the boards on the side of the rink - otherwise both of them would have gone down.

“You can walk in heels though, can't you?” Yuuri asked when they finally stopped laughing.

“Of course.” Victor's nose scrunched up in disgust, as if the idea of him not being able of walking in heels was ridiculous.  

They skated until the sun had completely sunk below the horizon. Yuuri had lost track of time - they say that time flies when you're having fun. He started to feel tired though, and he could feel his stomach nagging at him, thinking about dinner.

“Hey, uh, Victor, can we go have dinner? I'm tired and craving Indian takeout,” Yuuri blurted when his stomach rumbled for the third time.

“Takeout? Can't we go somewhere?” Victor frowned.

“Uh, sure. I just don't want to be home too late. I still have a lot to do since I’m out ice skating and not doing my job,” Yuuri teased with a smile as they made their way to the exit. He had no idea where the guts to tease Victor had come from, but he loved the man’s reaction.

“You are so childish sometimes,” Victor pouted and sighed. Yuuri didn't say anything, too busy laughing - he really needed to point Victor to the nearest mirror for him to see the true image of “childish”.

As they returned their skates and walked out, Yuuri was still cooling down from skating. However, when they started to walk away, searching for a restaurant, the cold finally hit the designer. It was freezing outside now that the sun was gone. He hoped Victor and him would agree on the first restaurant they came across because he really needed to get warm soon.

And then he felt Victor's hand brush against his, so timidly he thought it was an accident. It wasn't, though, because a second later Victor's fingers were around his, as if they were ice skating again.

Yuuri felt himself flush, and he was sure he was blood red all over his face and ears. He had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from sighing. Thankfully, Victor was too distracted with the New York city nightlights to notice how such a small action had affected Yuuri so much.

He definitely didn't feel cold anymore.

They walked together for a few minutes, wandering the streets looking for some place to eat. It shouldn't have been a magical or memorable moment, considering Yuuri was both starving and tired. It should just be another random night in New York he'd forget all about in a couple of months.

However, Victor made it special. Victor was holding his hand, squeezing it whenever he saw something interesting to get his attention. He would pull Yuuri closer to him by their linked hands, making them bump shoulders sometimes as they walked. It made Yuuri feel special, taken care of. It made Yuuri's heart skip beats. And the best feeling of them all, it let Yuuri nurse the spark of hope that _maybe_ Victor liked him too.

He had half a mind of just turning around and telling Victor he was in love with him. It was such a perfect moment to do so. Suddenly, Yuuri's phone rang in his coat pocket, breaking his concentration on the matter.

"Phichit?”

"Hey Yuuri!” Yuuri could hear the smile on his friend's voice. “Listen, what are you doing tonight?’’

“I'm going somewhere for dinner, but I haven't decided where to go yet,’’ He carefully avoided mentioning he wasn't alone.

“Great! Leo, Guang-Hong, and I are out and we're thinking of going to an Italian restaurant right now. Do you wanna join us?”

"That sounds like a plan,” Yuuri said, dreadfully hating what he had to ask next. “Can I bring Victor?”

“Victor, huh?” Phichit teased. "Never mind me then, you two should have dinner together… Alone.”

“Phichit, are you twelve?” Yuuri rolled his eyes, but felt a blush coming up his cheeks when Victor looked at him. They were still holding hands.

“For your information, I'm twelve and a half.”

“Text me the address, we'll take a cab from here.”

"We, huh?” Phichit teased again and Yuuri decided it was better to hang up on him.

“Phichit invited us to have dinner with Leo and Guang-Hong. They're going to an Italian place.” Yuuri realized now how awkward it was of him to have signed Victor up for dinner with his friends without even consulting the model first. “You don't have to-”

“I'd kill to drink some wine to warm up right now,” Victor smiled, squeezing Yuuri's hand reassuringly as if he could read the designer's thoughts.

“According to Phichit's text it's just a few blocks before Times Square.”

“Is that… far?” Victor asked. Yuuri had to laugh at the uncertainty on the man's voice.

“Not really, maybe ten minutes?”

“Would you mind if we walked there?’’

“Uh, sure.” Yuuri nodded. He had been praying for an excuse to keep holding Victor's  with hand for just a little longer. “You haven't met Phichit before, have you?”

“Not that I remember, no.”

“I feel like I should apologize in advance for his behaviour.” Yuuri smiled a little.

“Yuuri, I'm friends with Christophe Giacometti. Until your friend gets wasted and strips in the middle of a Victoria's Secret after party, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Oh. Right,” Yuuri laughed a little.

The fifteen minute walk to the restaurant went by in the blink of an eye. Yuuri had never felt so _good_ . He was holding hands with _Victor Nikiforov_ while they walked together to have dinner with Yuuri's friends - how was this his life? Victor was chatty and funny, teasing Yuuri every time he slipped on the ice-slick sidewalk.

He couldn't stop staring at Victor. The model had a bright smile tattooed on his lips, and his nose had turned an adorable shade of pink that made him look younger. He only turned his face when Victor ran his thumb across the back of Yuuri's hand; it was such a tender touch he couldn't help but blush.

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand. Yuuri knew he would have to deal with Phichit losing his shit as soon as the two of them were alone, but he barely cared. All that mattered in that moment was Victor.

A waitress asked them if they wanted a table for two, and Yuuri explained they were meeting some friends. As soon as they walked towards Phichit's table, Yuuri felt Victor's hand leaving his. Not only that, but he also noticed how the model put some distance between them.

“Yuuri! Victor!’’ Phichit raised a hand from the table.

It was a coincidence, right? There was probably some reasonable explanation as to why Victor would do that as soon as he saw Yuuri's friends. The answer hit him when they went to take their seats; even though there was room right next to Yuuri, Victor sat down on the other side of the table, putting more and more distance between them.

He finally understood. Victor was embarrassed of being seen with Yuuri. That was the only explanation he could come up with, and all that confidence he had felt before was shattered in a matter of seconds. Even the warmth inside his chest had been replaced by an empty feeling.

He tried to participate in the conversation normally after that. He was doing okay considering his anxiety was spiking so hard his hands were shaking. Yuuri was glad when Victor ordered a bottle of wine. The alcohol helped him get warmer and loosen up.

Yuuri noticed a few looks from Phichit that probably meant he knew what was going on inside his head. Yuuri remembered that the person that usually looked at him that way was Victor. It hurt that the model didn’t seem to realize Yuuri’s anxiety.

Somewhere in the middle of dinner and the bottle of wine, Yuuri started to feel a little tipsy, and he suddenly got _mad_. He was tired of Victor playing with him as if he was a rag doll that could easily be thrown away. It was time for Yuuri to confront Victor. It was time he made it clear that Victor couldn't toy with his feelings.

He started brainstorming in the middle of one of Phichit's stories. He had heard all of his friend's hamsters’ misadventures, and while they were pretty entertaining, he was tired of that particular one.

Yuuri needed a way of asking Victor to be mindful of his actions without exposing his own feelings. The last thing he needed was to have the model feeling sorry for him; he was in love, but he didn't need pity.

Maybe he should just tell Victor he had overstayed his welcome: It was time he and Makkachin found a pet-friendly hotel. But that thought only made Yuuri feel sad - he loved the company. Perhaps he could kick Victor out and keep the dog. ‘Hey, Victor, I need you to leave my apartment, but leave your dog.’

Yuuri needed to stop drinking wine.

The food was pretty great; Yuuri ate pasta until he was drowsy from a full stomach and his tipsy thoughts. The wine had warmed him up pretty nicely - he had taken off his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. Even though he didn’t feel too good, the conversation was fun and easy to participate in. He did feel a little glad he managed to  catch up and get his mind off work for a while.

He knew that the next few days were going to be chaotic. He had meetings to attend, a pile of costumes to adjust, not to mention that the actual show was just around the corner. He wouldn’t be able to relax like this for a couple of weeks - pretty stressful ones too. Yuuri needed the time off.   

He wished he could get his mind off Victor for a while too.

After they paid the bill, the group walked out of the restaurant to say their goodbyes. Leo and Guang Hong shared a cab, and Phichit got into one alone after a little teasing - he playfully tried to get Yuuri to smile, which obviously worked. Finally, after they were all gone, Victor hailed a cab for him and Yuuri.

It only intensified the feeling of Victor being ashamed of him. He couldn’t even let the others know they were taking a cab together, God! It made him feel like absolute crap. He could feel his legs going weak and he was thankful he was going home. He planned on holing up in his studio for the entire night - just thinking about sharing a bed with Victor made him feel like throwing up.

The trip back to the apartment felt extremely long. Neither Victor or Yuuri said anything until they got home. He was closing the door when he heard Victor saying his name:

“Yuuri-”

But Yuuri couldn’t take it right now. He didn’t need Victor to be apologetic or sweet; he needed answers and he needed them that moment.

“Why are you ashamed of me, Victor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY????
> 
> hi everyone!! a little late on the update, I'm trying to post weekly, I swear. The next chapter will come a little faster I promise. Thank you all for the sweet comments on the last update, I really really appreciate them a whole lot <3 
> 
> Thanks again Natalie (@cresstic) for being the world's greatest beta!! 
> 
> I'm on twitter @moimiles if anyone wants to talk (or complain) ;)


	10. I hope I don't drag you down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Yuuri did what he always did when he felt threatened. He found a way of running from the situation. 
> 
> “I’m sorry Victor,” He started, sitting down on the couch. “I need you to leave.”

“Why are you ashamed of me, Victor?’’

Everything seemed to move in slow-motion. Yuuri could see Victor’s expression changing - his wide smile and happy eyes turned slowly into a frown and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He saw the moment Victor began to cover up that expression with a fake smile. The two steps the model took to shorten the distance between them seemed to last forever. 

He could hear Victor’s shaky breath before speaking. Yuuri was probably going to have an adrenaline rush after asking  _ that _ question; it would explain the slow-motion goggles. However, he also suspected that everything would change between them, and he wanted to hang onto this life of delusions just a little bit longer. 

“Yuuri, what are you talking about?” Victor’s fake smiled stung at his heart. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” Yuuri mumbled, still driven to find out just what the hell was going on between them. 

“You’re drunk,  _ solnyshko,  _ you should go to bed. We can talk about it tomorr-”

“No, Victor! I’m tired of this, I need to discuss this right now,” Yuuri interrupted. He was desperate - he never meant to be rude to Victor, but he couldn’t stand the idea of having to go to bed without getting to the bottom of this. He knew that the only thing keeping him courageous enough to question Victor right now was the alcohol - his liquid confidence. 

“Why would you think I am ashamed of you?” Victor tilted his head a little, squinting his eyes at the designer like he was trying to read his mind. Yuuri felt naked under his glare. 

“You change.” 

“What?”

“You change! When it’s just you and me you’re m-” Yuuri caught himself almost saying ‘my Victor’ and he almost bit his tongue to prevent it. He had to take in a big breath before continuing; the only problem of arguing half drunk was that his brain thought that anything was okay to be said out loud. The filter that usually kept him from saying embarrassing things was gone. 

“I’m?”

“You’re one type of person.” 

“What type of person?” Victor took another step closer. Yuuri kept the distance between them by taking a step back.

“You’re a nice asshole. But as soon as we’re around other people, you-you’re just an asshole who apparently can’t even sit next to me. I get it, Victor. I’m… not the best designer out there, and I-I’m not launching the biggest collection of the year. However, you’re the one who decided to work and live with me. If-”

“Yuuri,” Victor interrupted with a coy smile playing across his lips. “You really haven’t figured it out?” 

“What am I supposed to figure out, Victor?” Yuuri felt anger burning at the back of his eyes, and he would hate himself if he cried right now. It was too childish of him and he didn’t want Victor to see him like that.

“Have I not made myself obvious enough?” Victor laughed bitterly, brushing a hand through his hair. He sounded frustrated; but Yuuri couldn’t understand just what the hell was happening. He just wanted to yell or hit something before he continued the argument - he knew that any moment now he could slip up and say something he shouldn’t. Whether that something was an insult or a pathetic confession, both options were incredibly bad. 

So Yuuri did what he always did when he felt threatened. He found a way of running from the situation. 

“I’m sorry Victor,” He started, sitting down on the couch. “I need you to leave.” 

Victor’s smile disappeared completely and the fake one did not take its place this time. The expression of pain on the model’s face was almost enough to make Yuuri give up his running away - he wanted to run into Victor’s arms and tell him it’d be okay. 

“Yuuri?” The model’s voice was a whisper. 

“There should be plenty of hotels in Manhattan. Phichit said he found his pretty easily. If you can’t find a pet friendly one, I’ll keep Makkachin here, it’s no problem for me. But... I-I need you to leave. Tonight.” 

“Why?” 

“Please don’t make me say it.” Yuuri bit his lip in anger. Victor was ashamed of him. Victor didn’t love him. It was too overwhelming and he didn’t want to talk - he just needed time alone to clear his head. His heart was already suffering, he didn’t need it to be smashed to bits. 

“I’m sorry.” Those were Victor’s last words before leaving. As soon as the door was closed, silence settled in the apartment. Yuuri could feel tears burning in the back of his eyes and he couldn’t believe that a conversation meant to solve everything had just made everything  _ worse _ .     

Regret tasted bitter on Yuuri’s tongue. How could he?! He had literally ruined everything. His biggest fear was Victor leaving him and he managed to make that come true. Victor was going to leave eventually; Yuuri knew that the model was going back Russia and that they probably would never see each other again. He had decided that it was best to savor their moments together rather than cut them short. 

_ Of course _ he did exactly the opposite. 

Yuuri had no idea of what to do with himself. He was sitting on the couch, frozen in the same position for what felt like forever. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough he could go back in time and fix it; maybe-

The door slammed open. 

“I’m sorry Yuuri, but I deserve to know why I’m being kicked out.” Victor stomped into the apartment without even bothering to close the door behind him. Yuuri got up from the couch so fast the world danced in front of his eyes. He was hugging Victor before the model could carry on with his speech. 

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri choked out, holding onto Victor tightly; it was the only way to make sure the man was actually real. He was. His body was so warm and  _ there _ , real, with him. When Victor hugged back Yuuri felt like he could cry from happiness. “Thank you for coming back.”

“I had to,” Victor murmured, still hugging Yuuri. Maybe it was easier to talk like this because they weren’t looking at each other. 

“Can we please talk?” Yuuri asked. 

“I think you need to get some water in you first.” Victor pulled away from the hug, but the man was still too close. “How about I make us some tea and you go take a shower?” 

“Okay,” Yuuri nodded. He had to clear his head a little, but Victor was not getting out of this conversation so soon. Yuuri lingered a little - he half wanted to hug him again, and the other half (the  _ considerably _ more drunk half) wanted to kiss him. 

He did neither. Yuuri walked to his bedroom, grabbing some comfortable pajamas before getting in the shower. He tried not to take too long, but the hot water was relaxing; Yuuri didn’t realize how tense he had been. It had been an extremely eventful afternoon, and there was still a very intense conversation in store. 

Yuuri left the bathroom and the smell of passion fruit tea was intoxicating. Victor waited for him in the living room, two mugs of tea on the coffee table. Makkachin was asleep on the couch next to Victor, and for a second Yuuri wished they weren’t going to have a discussion, instead just going to sit next to each other and drink tea. 

But they had to. 

“Hi.”

“I didn’t add any sugar, is that okay?” Victor asked when Yuuri sat next to him. 

“Yeah,” he nodded and grabbed the cup from the coffee table. The warmth of the mug felt nice and he took a small sip before talking. “I’m sorry about asking you to leave. I guess I just felt cornered.”

“What is going on, Yuuri?”

“Uh…” It was surprisingly harder to talk after his head was a bit clearer. Yuuri took a big breath before trying to put his feeling into words. “I felt really… rejected? That’s not the right word, but- yeah. Today was really a great day while we were alone together, but the second you saw my friends- Uh… you put some distance between us, like you acted like we weren’t even friends. I just assumed you were... ashamed of me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know!” Yuuri complained. “I just… It just felt like it.”

“Yuuri, the only reason I did that is because I don’t want gossip to ruin the launch of your collection. It’s the reason I haven’t done half of the things I’ve wanted to,” Victor sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t.” Yuuri had to look away because his heart was thumping too hard in his chest. He didn’t know what he was feeling and he probably looked stupid, like a puzzled puppy looking in a mirror for the first time. 

“You’re incredibly dense,” Victor laughed, and Yuuri felt that same anger burning inside of him again. He was opening up, sharing his feelings, and Victor was laughing at him?! 

“It’s not funny, Victor. I’m sorry I’m not good with people like you are! I’m trying. I don’t understand you, or half of the things you do. I don’t know if this is a cultural issue, or just downright a personality difference, but I… ugh,” Yuuri groaned in frustration, unable to find the right words to explain. 

Victor’s smile disappeared and he looked so confused Yuuri could almost see the gears turning in his head. 

“I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything until after the show, but you have no idea do you?” Victor smiled softly at him. Yuuri had never seen the model’s eyes gleaming like they were in that moment. 

“Wha-what?”

“I’m in love with you, Yuuri.” 

The world seemed to move in slow-motion again. Yuuri couldn’t believe what he had heard - there was no way that  _ Victor Nikiforov _ , the legendary model, was in love with  _ him _ . Yuuri’s heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst. He wanted more than anything to just do something: kiss him, tell him he loved him back, celebrate, pop the champagne,  _ anything _ . 

Of course he had to do the most embarrassing of all options. 

“What?!” Yuuri half-yelled. Victor laughed, a blush spreading up his cheeks and ears. “I-I’m s-sorry. I-what?”

Victor grabbed his hands, lacing their fingers together once again. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for a long time,” Victor giggled softly. “And then I met you.” 

He didn’t need to say much more. Yuuri had felt the same; Victor was his idol, his inspiration. As soon as he started to get to know the model, he couldn’t help but falling in love with his stupid, childish demeanor, his beautiful looks, and his caring personality. 

Yuuri had no idea Victor could feel the same. It was stupid of him - Victor was right, he was dense - because they were sleeping on the same bed, spending whole days together… He was blind, but how could he ever think someone he put on such a high pedestal actually loved him?

“You do understand now, don’t you?” Victor asked tentatively, squeezing Yuuri’s hands. 

He did.

Of course Victor wouldn’t be affectionate in public with him. He was famous; when they were alone and Victor was in incognito mode it was fine, but if the paparazzi, or even the other models found out, it could taint the whole show. The media would have a field day with their relationship, and Victor knew that. He was used to the spotlight - dealing with the media was second nature to him. 

Not to Yuuri. He’d never imagined that by pulling away, Victor was keeping him and his show safe. The designer’s heart swelled with affection and he couldn’t help but smile. It was like putting a jigsaw puzzle together slowly - it explained why Victor wanted to stay in the apartment. It explained his constant company. Hell, it explained all the weird over-affectionate moments he’d come to associate with the man.

“So you weren’t making fun of me after that first fitting?” Yuuri asked vaguely.

“Making fun of…? Oh, so that’s what you thought. Of course not!” 

Yuuri slapped himself on the forehead. Goddammit, why did his anxiety have to ruin everything? He could have kissed  _ Victor Nikiforov _ . His cheeks burned at the simple thought and he had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from screaming. 

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri laughed a little. 

“When you kicked me out, I thought…” Victor sighed, his free hand brushing Yuuri’s hand out of his face. It felt nice; Yuuri couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “I thought you knew, and that you didn’t feel the same.”

“You know I do, right?” Yuuri tried not to blush, but it was impossible. He was courageous enough to say it looking at Victor. 

“I know now,” Victor smiled. Yuuri had to bite his lip because he would smile like an idiot if he didn’t. 

“So, what now?” Yuuri asked tentatively. Were they going to kiss? God, he wouldn’t survive that. Were they dating? Oh my God, was Victor his… boyfriend? Yuuri forced himself to stop thinking before he became hysterical. 

“Now we go to bed.”

Oh shit. He was definitely  _ not _ ready for that. 

“You need to get some rest, don’t you have a meeting tomorrow?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, I do. Are you coming along? I could use your help.” 

“Sure,” Victor smiled warmly, getting up from the couch. “You go get ready for bed, I’ll put these in the sink.”

“Okay,” Yuuri nodded. 

He walked to the bathroom feeling the goofiest smile spread across his lips. How could he be so lucky? Yuuri kinda wanted to dance around. He was in love with someone who loved him back. He, who had never had any experience in the field before, was in love. 

Yuuri usually compared falling in love with winning the lottery. There were too many people in the world; how were you supposed to pick one out of millions and have that chosen one pick you too? The odds were not good. He brushed it off as something not made for him. Yuuri created numerous excuses in his head as to why he had never fallen for anyone - he wanted to focus on his career, he didn’t have time for it, and so on - but maybe he had just been waiting for someone special. 

He tucked himself in bed, the smile still tattooed on his lips. Yuuri could hear Victor getting ready, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Makkachin padded into the room and sat at the foot of Yuuri’s bed. He smiled at the large dog; Makkachin was already sound asleep. 

Yuuri felt the bed shift and glanced over to see Victor getting under the covers. He turned to look the model, _ his _ model, in the eyes and he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Good night, Victor.” 

“Good night, Yuuri. Come here.” Victor opened his arms and Yuuri was glad the lights were dim: as he rolled into Victor’s embrace his face was as red as a tomato. Victor turned off his lamp and then both his arms were around Yuuri. The designer’s head was on Victor’s chest and he could feel the man’s breath on the top of his head. 

Their breaths synchronized after a few seconds. Yuuri didn’t want to fall asleep; he wanted to somehow live in that exact moment forever. He didn’t have to pretend he didn’t want this anymore, and he wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about it when he woke up. Victor was stroking the back of his neck softly and Yuuri couldn’t help but sigh at how comfortable the moment was. 

He was happy. They weren’t rushing into anything but just going with the flow. Maybe they would kiss in the morning, maybe they wouldn't, and that was fine. Yuuri didn’t need it. He was already content with whatever they had at that moment. His cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much, and he didn’t mind. He could hear Victor’s heart beating soundly in the model’s chest; it felt like a lullaby. 

It took him a while to fall asleep, but this time it was a good thing. He assumed Victor had fallen asleep when the man stopped stroking his neck. He didn’t stop moving though; the model would sometimes involuntarily squeeze Yuuri in his sleep. It was very cute. 

Yuuri started to entertain ideas before falling asleep. Victor and him walking to the shop hand in hand. Them going on a real date after the show. Ice skating at Central Park for a change… 

After Victor had started sleeping in his bed, Yuuri began to have some great nights of sleep. However, he could definitely say this was the best one. He felt protected, safe. It was warm and cozy, and even after he fell asleep, there was still a soft smile on his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya! had you fooled with that preview, huh? ;)
> 
> Sorry for the late update again, but I got sick (tonsil infection ayyy) so it threw me off my game a little. We're headed to the end guys. I'm planning 1/2 more chapters and an epilogue. But worry not! I'm already working on a stripper!au and a rockstar!au to start posting soon, if anyone is interested :)
> 
> As usual, thank you SO much for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks <3 If you guys want updates on when I'll post next or the next AUs I'm gonna write, follow me on twitter @moimiles


	11. The city comes alive when we're together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intimacy shouldn’t be an issue; it should be a pleasure, a need. Yet, he couldn’t help but feeling like he was going into cardiac arrest every time he thought of kissing Victor. Not in the good ‘heart-stopping from excitement’ kind of way.

“That wasn’t as bad as I expected,” Yuuri sighed, finishing his coffee in a long gulp. 

“Besides the fact that they basically told you your venue was the worst thing to happen in architecture, it went fine, yes,” Minako agreed with a small smile on her lips. 

“They did not say that,” Victor protested. “They were polite enough to imply it.” 

Yuuri had to laugh. 

He couldn’t help his giddiness. He had slept well with a man that was in love with him. Not any man, but  _ Victor _ . He felt like the model’s name was always followed by exclamation marks in his head. 

Their morning had simply been ordinary; they woke up, had breakfast and got ready to go to the studio. Yuuri noticed, though, that ordinary was amazing with someone special. It made the smallest things, well,  _ extraordinary _ . 

Waking up next to Victor was like opening the curtains on a sunny day. That morning was laughably normal, they had breakfast together, and this time, Yuuri cooked. He could make great pancakes when he had the time and the patience. 

Needless to say that his heart almost jumped out of his chest when Victor hugged him from behind while he was focused on the pan. The man had just got out of the shower and he smelled  _ fresh _ . Yuuri didn’t have butterflies, but a whole damn zoo on his stomach. 

Victor incognito mode this time was not hilarious, but downright beautiful. The man was wearing a large black hat and sunglasses; it just made him look more like the fashionable model he was. 

Yuuri had to admit he was a bit disappointed to see the hat gone when they walked into the studio. He was sure that Victor had noticed his face fall, but thankfully Minako arrived right away, keeping the model from teasing Yuuri for now, although he was sure Victor would pester him as soon as they had time. 

(He was not ready for it.)

Minako was always a blessing - she had brought fresh bagels and coffee for them. Yuuri knew from experience that the meetings with the producers were long and draining. They ended up having the bagels for lunch later as the meeting dragged on. 

Even though the meeting seemed endless, they did solve a lot of problems together. The more they discussed, argued, and resolved items on their to-do list, the more Yuuri felt his anxiety fading into the back of his mind. The meeting was exactly what he needed; everything was planned down to the tiniest details. All of that set his mind on ease and kept his anxiety far away. 

It was like his day kept getting better and better. Yes, the meeting was tiring and it was cold as hell outside, but he was happy. Yuuri was happy and his anxiety was far, far away, unable to make him overthink and ruin the feeling. He knew that he was probably going to spend the rest of the day - and most of the night - inside the studio working until his hands hurt, but there was something that made him happy about all that. 

_ Something. _

Victor. 

“Anyway,” Yuuri spoke up, “they said that the venue would work with several adjustments, and I’m fine with that.” 

“They definitely put emphasis on the  _ several _ part, though,” Minako pointed out. “They were trying to get you to change the venue, Yuuri.” 

“Too bad, I like it,” he shrugged. “Unless there are too many people to fit in there, which I highly doubt there will be, I am not changing it.”

“Well, it is a moderately sized place…” Victor joined. “And personally, I think it’s not bad.”

“I’ll take ‘not bad’ as a compliment,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I’m heading out for lunch. I’ll see you two later.” Minako winked at them and Yuuri had the odd feeling that she  _ knew _ somehow. He would expect a very loud phone call in a bit; Minako could be very dramatic if she wanted. 

“I think I’m going to work on costumes for a bit,” Yuuri said, sighing at the thought of the _ many _ temporary stitches he’d have to add to the costumes. 

“Are you okay?” Victor stepped into Yuuri’s personal space with a worried look on his face. 

“Yeah. I’m just a little overwhelmed, I guess,” Yuuri smiled weakly. Victor placed a hand on his cheek and smiled sweetly at him before speaking:

“You can do this. How about you get started, and I go back to the apartment to get Makkachin and some food?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Yuuri’s smile grew and he felt heart melt. He never noticed his heart this much, it was only when Victor was around. 

“I’ll be right back then,” the model smiled. The distance between them was small, but it was still a little too much. Yuuri noticed they had been awkwardly looking at each other for a while, and then ruined the moment by letting out a nervous laugh. Victor laughed a little too, then waved goodbye before leaving the studio. 

Yuuri needed to a volunteer to punch him in the throat. 

Why was he so nervous about Victor’s proximity?! It was Victor. They had slept together, in the same bed. He had seen the man nearly naked. He was more intimate with the model than with anyone in his life. And, well, there was the small plus that Yuuri was in love with him. Intimacy shouldn’t be an issue; it should be a pleasure, a need. Yet, he couldn’t help but feeling like he was going into cardiac arrest every time he thought of kissing Victor. Not in the good ‘heart-stopping from excitement’ kind of way. It was-

“No, okay, no,” Yuuri complained aloud as he sat in front of one of his sewing machines. He wasn’t going to let anxiety come around and make him feel bad about something he didn’t have much control over. This was supposed to be something good, no,  _ great _ . He was not going let affection coming from someone who made him feel good turn into something so ugly because of his anxiety. He refused. 

He had already decided it was going to be a good day, after all. 

Instead of obsessing on why he was so nervous in a negative light, he tried to fantasize about perfect first kiss scenarios. He pictured his favorite places in New York with his favorite person there with him: the Brooklyn bridge, the Metropolitan museum. God, how amazing would be to have his first kiss in front of his favorite painting with his favorite person?

Yuuri’s ears were burning at the thought, but that bubbly feeling started in his chest again. He was smiling like a goddamn idiot and yet he didn’t care. He’d gladly be an idiot if it meant he was happy like this. Happy was too vague; he was healthy, sleeping enough, eating well, and dealing with his anxiety better. Victor wasn’t the cure for all of that, of course not. He wasn’t a teen girl in some novel. 

Yet, he felt like Victor was helping in some way. Better yet, Victor was helping Yuuri have the confidence in himself that he had always lacked - the model’s unwavering confidence on Yuuri’s work made the designer actually believe, even if just a little, that he could whip out something great. Yuuri also realized that while Victor was great, and everything was going smoothly so far, it had only been less than a day. 

As in, things could still go wrong. However, even though there were many variables that could lead to disaster any time soon - and Yuuri was painfully aware of them - it was a fine line between being realistic and pessimistic. He would still have anxiety attacks, some things would absolutely go wrong, and that was okay. It was how his life worked; good things muddled together with bad things. 

His mind wandered while he got started on the costumes. Yuuri found himself smiling at the made up scenarios in his head. It was so cheesy to be daydreaming like this but it was like he finally had  _ permission _ to do so; and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Victor arrived just a little later - Yuuri heard him coming from far away because of Makkachin. The large poodle always got too excited to go on walks. It was probably why it took them a while. Victor must had taken Makkachin out for a bit before bringing the very large and energetic dog into a studio. 

“Yuuri!” Victor called in that one excited tone that was always too cute for his own good. He walked into the shop still wearing the hat and Yuuri had to smile at the model. “You need to go grocery shopping. I didn’t find any food in the fridge that wasn’t expired. Or gross.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Yuuri blushed a little. He was a terrible host. 

“I picked up some burgers on the way here.”

“Burgers, bagels, pancakes… I thought models didn’t eat carbs,” Yuuri joked with a shy smiled on his lips. Victor teased him all the time, he had the right, nay, the  _ obligation _ to tease him a little too.  

The model’s smile, though, turned into a pout. Victor clutched his chest dramatically with one hand, as if Yuuri’s words had physically hurt him. 

“You wound me, Yuuri,” he groaned. “I’m trying to be a nice person: bringing you food, supporting you, and you comment on my weight? I am going back to Russia. Book me a flight. I’ll send someone to pick up my things.”

“Make sure to book two seats,” Yuuri couldn’t help himself. Victor gasped so loudly and dramatically that Yuuri felt he was in a Mexican telenovela. It took the model a full minute before he dared to speak again:

“How dare you?!” 

Yuuri laughed at the scene his model was making. They had the burgers together, while Makkachin hung around. Yuuri just now realized how much of a good fit they where; Victor was loud and playful, while Yuuri was more quiet and too serious sometimes. 

After their improv meal, Yuuri got back to sewing, and Victor filled the silence with his voice. Because of their talking, Yuuri lost track of time. The hours slipped away and he wished he could do this for the rest of his life - working and spending time with Victor.

"Hey, Yuuri?" Victor said after a few seconds of silence between them. 

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go out for dinner somewhere?"

"Oh. Is it late enough for dinner yet? Uh, I'd love that," Yuuri looked up from his work to see that the light in the studio had changed completely, shifting from a bright yellow to a dim orange, which could only mean the sun was starting to set. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Somewhere around the Brooklyn bridge, maybe? I heard that the sundown there is lovely."

"Sure, we can grab a cab and I'll check if there's anything good to eat at the pier on the way." Yuuri got up from his seat, stretching lazily as he did - when he spent too much time sewing his back always ended up stiff.

"Sounds good," Victor mumbled. Yuuri looked up to see the model  _ blushing. _ It was a faint blush - the loveliest shade of pink. He was confused for a whole second until it finally hit him like a shit ton of bricks.

Victor was asking him out on a date.

No. It wasn't just that. Victor was asking him out on a date and  _ blushing. _

"It's a date," Yuuri breathed, smiling shyly at his model, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. He couldn't believe his own mouth; he meant to think that, not say it outloud. "Come on, let's take Makkachin back to the apartment and go. I'm hungry."

"It’s a date,” Victor echoed, smiling back.

The sun started to set as they headed back to the apartment. Yuuri knew that Victor wanted to watch the sunset at the pier, so they were almost running down the frozen New York streets. He had to lean into his model several times to avoid slipping – and something told him that was exactly why Victor was walking faster than usual.

When they got to the apartment, Yuuri headed to his room while Victor gave Makkachin some food. He knew that it was always colder and a lot windier by the river, so he decided to wear an extra sweater and grab a scarf just in case. He wasn’t interested in getting a cold now.

“Come on, Yuuri!”

“Be right there!” Yuuri called. He checked his bag before leaving the room – wallet, keys, scarf, sketchbook, and pencil case. Everything was there. “Sorry, I had to change, it’s colder by the river.”

“We’re gonna miss the sunset,” Victor pouted.

“We won’t,” Yuuri decided. He hated when Victor pouted; it was emotional blackmail. He knew that they had to ride the subway pretty far to get to the bridges, but he was determined to get there in time.

They ran down the street and were lucky enough that their train had just arrived. Their car wasn’t crowded, but Yuuri felt every single pair of eyes staring at them. Victor was wearing his hat again, so he hoped they were staring at the statement piece rather than recognizing the model.

They arrived at the Brooklyn bridge pier just before the sun disappeared in the horizon. The sky still looked beautiful; it was colored with the brightest yellows and oranges, and even some faint pink shades. It was breathtaking. Victor and Yuuri probably looked stupid by staring at the sky in the middle of the sidewalk, but it wasn’t an issue to them.

Yuuri had never seen the city he loved look so pretty.

It was like the Manhattan skyline had grown bigger and brighter. The city lights had just been turned on, slowly letting the city come alive. Yuuri had seen the lights come up after the sunset many, many times, but it was like today it was  _ something else. _ It was such a tiny moment – the city lights being on while the sky was still blue – and he never cared for it before.

Today was different because he had someone to share it with.

“It’s beautiful.” Victor’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.” Victor’s hand touched his worriedly. “The temperature is dropping. Your hand is cold.”

Yuuri hadn’t paid attention to anything after they left the subway but the scenery. He supposed he used to be able to feel his chin; Victor was right. So he just nodded and let Victor walk him around while they looked for somewhere to eat.

They settled on a small coffee shop. It was the first-place Victor ran into; even though Yuuri wanted some real food, he was happy enough with some coffee and maybe a bagel. He was hungry enough that he didn’t care what food he was getting, as long as it was edible.

“Why don’t you grab us a seat and I’ll order?” Victor offered with a smile. “What do you want to eat?”

“A bagel.” Yuuri smiled a little. Victor winked at him and Yuuri took that as his exit note. He sat in a table by the window and watched the sunlight slowly disappear behind the horizon. It was gorgeous, and it made him wonder why he never did these kinds of things when he was alone. He lived in one of the prettiest cities in the world, and he rarely ever enjoyed it.

Yuuri decided not to dwell on that and grabbed his sketchbook. He had tons of ideas and sketches in there – new collections he wanted to create someday, random clothes and outfits he designed, and a lot of unfinished sketches that he would probably never get around to completing.

He decided to work on a sketch he hadn’t had the time to think about ever since Victor walked into his life. Right now, he had only a rough outline of the shape he wanted the dress to be, but he still remembered where he wanted to go from there.

“Hey, that’s really good!” He heard Victor’s voice. Yuuri looked up to see the model sitting down next to him. Victor had already placed their food on the table – two cups of coffee and two bagels.

“Thanks,” Yuuri smiled, grabbing a bagel for himself. His mouth was already watering and he almost sighed out loud as the warmth seeped into his hands.

“Is that a new collection I see?” Victor teased with a smirk.

“Good question.” Yuuri tried to smile, but his mouth was too full. He decided to swallow before attempting to speak again. The last thing he needed was to choke in front of Victor. “I’ve had this idea for a while, and I even have some sketches ready, but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what? Can I see the other sketches?”

“Uh, sure.” Yuuri tried to clean his hands on a napkin, but he was sure he was going to find crumbs on his sketchbook later anyway. He flipped a couple of pages to show Victor where he was coming from; he had a few sketches that were colored too, so they helped show what he intended a lot better. Yuuri felt a small blush creeping up his cheeks as Victor’s gaze turned to his work, but he pushed the thought aside. 

“This is amazing, Yuuri. You really  _ should _ make it your next collection.”

“I’m not sure,” the designer mumbled. He took a sip of his coffee only to find out it wasn’t coffee at all, but hot chocolate. “Victor, I think they mistook my order. This is hot chocolate.”

“I know,” he smiled, “you drink way too much coffee, Yuuri. It’s not good for you. Anyway, you were saying?”

“I’m not sure about this,” Yuuri sighed.

“Why not?”

“Well, I, uh… I feel that because I’m a smaller designer I can’t just, how do I put this? I can’t have a collection that doesn’t have a theme, I guess?”

“A theme?”

“Not theme, sorry. I feel like I need to justify my work. This collection was based on this, this and that, and it connects to history this way, and it’s relevant because of this and that. You know? It’s like I can’t just say ‘well, I think this is pretty fashionable,’” Yuuri rambled. “I have tons of ideas, I just don’t have ideas that are elaborate enough.”

“Yuuri, you know that’s not true, don’t you?”

“The last time I tried to do ‘I like this, I’m gonna work with this’ it was a big failure.”

Victor laughed at him. 

Yuuri thought that once they cleared the air between them this wouldn’t happen anymore; he wouldn’t feel crushed like that either. There he was, opening his heart to Victor and the man laughed at him.

“This is not funny.”

“You’re right.” He was still laughing. “Sorry, Yuuri,” Victor laughed again.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re ridiculous sometimes.”

“I’m sitting right here.”

“Look, that failure wasn’t on you,” Victor started to explain, but that smirk never left his lips. “I mean, it wasn’t on your designs. You’re a brilliant designer, and that can’t be taken away from you. However, you’re a terrible planner. You can’t cast models on your own. You can’t sew everything alone. You’re not an infallible machine, _solnyshko_ , and you don’t have to do everything alone.”

Of all the things Yuuri was expecting, that was definitely not one of them. Maybe it was a reality for them; Victor being an asshole and then being sweet, and it was time Yuuri was prepared for that.

“And you’re talented. You don’t need to justify your work to anyone but yourself. Do you like this?” Victor carried on.

“Y-yeah, I think I do, but-”

“Then that’s good enough.” Victor smiled sweetly and Yuuri felt himself smiling back. One dramatic speech from Victor was not going to change his mind set or erase his anxiety forever, but it helped a lot.

Yuuri wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but before he could panic his face was already too close to Victor’s. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, and he couldn’t think straight for the life of him. So, he just closed his eyes and waited for the touch he had been craving. Those couple of seconds felt like entire lifetimes and at the same time they were flying by him.

And then something weird happened.

He was pretty sure that Victor’s aim couldn’t be that bad, but he felt something hitting his forehead. He was a little scared of opening his eyes, but he did anyway; it would be a lot weirder if he just stood there, frozen solid with his eyes closed.

It was the hat.

The goddamn hat Victor was wearing was keeping them apart. It had bumped Yuuri in the forehead, and completely ruining the moment. Yuuri didn’t know what to do with that information until he looked at Victor and saw the angriest look on the model’s eyes.

“I hate this hat.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh until he was out of breath. He was almost recovering when Victor started laughing too – Yuuri couldn’t keep a straight face after that. They ended up leaning against each other as they laughed and laughed. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE (09/03):  
> hi guys! I've edited this chapter to the way it was supposed to be, long, and actual relevant to plot, lmao. Sorry this took so long, and hopefully I will be able to post once a week. So, as usual, I'd like to thank the most wonderful beta on earth @cresstic, and I'm always on twitter if you want to yell at/with me @moimiles.


	12. a touch of your love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!  
> Chapter 11 has been completely updated and rewritten, so if you haven't seen that, please take a look! It's essential for this next chapter.

Getting home after a long day was one of Yuuri’s favorite things, especially now that he had company. Before, coming home to an empty house, an empty fridge, and a cold bed was depressing, especially during the gray New York winters. His apartment made him lonely; he grew up in a crowded house and that lifestyle was hard to let go of.

Victor made things better. Makkachin was always barking excitedly at their arrival – even if it was just Yuuri coming home alone. The fact that Victor’s things were slowly taking over Yuuri’s apartment made it look less empty. His sweaters were starting to pile on the couch, and his shoes by the door, but it made the place look lived in, messy like it should be. Or when Victor forgot to wash the dishes – Yuuri thought he’d be bothered, but it eased the hollowness in his apartment.

Yuuri was exhausted; he had fallen asleep on their cab ride home and barely enjoyed the view Victor was so excited over. He kept waking up when Victor pointed something out and Yuuri made a mental note to take the man sightseeing after the show. He could show him his favorite places and maybe Victor would stop obsessing after the damn Statue of Liberty.

“It’s freezing cold there in the winter, Victor,” he tried to argue as they got home. “It’s an island, you know?”

“It’s barely n-nippy outside,” Victor protested, but his nose was red and his teeth were chattering a little.

“You travel a lot, don’t you? Haven’t you been to New York before?”

“I have, but never for too long. And the times I was here I was too s-stressed to do anything but crash in the hotel bed.” Victor threw his hat on the couch, but hesitated in taking off his coat.

“Sounds like right now you are too frozen,” Yuuri joked, an affectionate smile growing on his lips. “You need to take a hot shower and go to bed.”

“I’m fine,” He barely got the words out.

“I told you to close the car window.” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “You go ahead and I’ll make you some hot tea. I can’t have you catching a cold so close to the show, right?” He smiled at the model and Victor just smiled sweetly at him.

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Victor’s voice had dropped a little; it sounded vaguely out of context. He noticed that Victor was blushing, but before Yuuri could process it, the model pulled him softly by the collar of his sweater and kissed him.

Yuuri had been counting on his first kiss with Victor making his brain panic and completely shut down. He assumed he would only focus on how there was nothing to lean on, and if his knees went weak he was going to slip and fall. He supposed he was going to feel fireworks, butterflies, dizziness, and all the cliché ways people had described their first kisses going; sweaty hands, desperate touches, and overall uncontrollable euphoria.

It wasn’t like that at all.

He melted into Victor’s touch. It felt like sunshine; so warm and familiar. His brain didn’t panic and the earth didn’t stop turning. It just made sense; _exactly_ like sunlight on a cold day. Victor’s lips were cold, but soft, and even though it lasted just a few seconds Yuuri was sure it was going to make him smile all week. Victor pulled away, searching the designer’s eyes hesitantly, making Yuuri blush a little.

Before Yuuri could say anything – or do anything, he had one taste and he wanted more – Victor turned and walked into the bathroom. Yuuri let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and he licked his lips unconsciously. He could still feel Victor’s mouth on his.

It took him a while to realize he was still frozen in the same spot like an idiot. Yuuri shook his head with a shaky laugh and headed to the kitchen to make Victor’s tea.

_Damn, if making tea was all it took, I’ll be sure to make it every day._

After placing Victor’s mug on the bedroom’s nightstand, Yuuri changed into his pajamas and climbed under the covers.  He was still running the kiss through his mind over and over, but he was exhausted. His mind might have been wide awake, but his body was begging for mercy.

Yuuri tried to stay up to say goodnight to Victor - he really did - but he was incredibly happy, he was tired, and he was so _warm,_ and it all just made him sleepier. He drifted off with the lights still on and his glasses crooked across his face. He didn’t even notice he was falling asleep. Yuuri was only vaguely aware of the lights being turned off when the sudden darkness took over, followed by the the mattress shifting. He unconsciously looked for the warmth Victor’s body always radiated and fell back asleep before he felt Victor removing his glasses from his sleepy face.

 

It hadn’t been late when he’d gone to bed, so the following morning Yuuri woke up before his alarm. He came to his senses slowly, noticing first that it was brighter inside the room and opened his eyes to see a pale-yellow light coming through the windows.

He then started to notice Victor’s breath on his neck, moving his hair along with it, and tickling the nape of his neck. The model’s body was pressing against his, and Victor’s arms were around Yuuri. They were so close and Yuuri couldn’t think of a better way to wake up. He was comfortable, he felt refreshed, and he wished he didn’t have to get up for another hour or so.

Unfortunately, the last thing he noticed was that he was starving. Right on cue his stomach growled loudly; he would have to get something to eat soon. So Yuuri turned around to face Victor; he wouldn’t be able to untangle himself from him without waking him up anyway.

“Victor?” He called softly.

Victor replied with a grunt and pulled Yuuri closer – he had to try hard not to laugh. Victor was such a child sometimes. Yuuri had to call him a couple more times to get the ( _grown?_ ) man to open his eyes and finally wake up.

“Yuuri?” He was blushing from the warmth in the room and his eyes looked like stained glass in the morning light.

“Good morning.”

“Hmmm. What time is it?”

“It’s early. Do you want breakfast? I’m heading to the studio soon.”

“Hmmm.” Victor nodded a little, but his arms were still around Yuuri. The model was skinny, sure, but he was much stronger than he let on. Yuuri had to fight to get out of bed; he would have stayed if he weren’t _so_ hungry.

He was halfway through his coffee when Victor finally got out of bed. There was something poetic about that; he was always the one to get up later. He finally got to see Victor sleepy. His hair was messy – the model had a bad case of bedhead. Adding that to the blush settled across his cheeks and nose, and the fact he was wearing pattern pajamas, he looked downright adorable.

“Morning,” Victor mumbled as he walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Victor.” Yuuri smiled sweetly. The model didn’t say anything as he poured himself a rather large cup of coffee and grabbed a banana. Yuuri had half a mind to tease him a little, but he wasn’t sure if early morning Victor was a grump or not; he didn’t want to find out in the worst way.

Victor sat next to Yuuri in complete silence. He nursed his black coffee some before he started to look more awake; his eyes were finally completely open and the blush on his cheeks was starting to fade.

“Tired?” Yuuri asked.

“Mm sleepy,” Victor mumbled. His next move was to drop his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, sighing in content as he did.

He wasn’t grumpy in the morning.

Victor Nikiforov was needy.

Yuuri hadn’t understood that before, but it made sense. Victor was always cuddling him after they got up, or reaching out to Yuuri when he woke him up. He craved physical contact early in the morning like Yuuri craved coffee. So Yuuri relaxed into the touch, and let Victor be as needy as he wanted.

Yuuri’s kitchen was hit by direct sunlight in the mornings. It was one of the things he loved about his apartment, as he never had to turn on the electric lights in the morning; the kitchen just had an ethereal feel because of the sun. It felt even better now that he had someone to share it with – a recurring theme in his life currently.

He hated to break the silence and ruin the mood, but Yuuri had things to do, and a job to get to.

“I have some work to get done at the studio,” Yuuri said quietly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I was planning on doing some sightseeing.” Victor, who was finally more human-like after his coffee, yawned. “How do I get to the Statue of Liberty?”

“Didn’t we have this discussion already? It’s going to be full of tourists and _cold_.”

“Yuuri. It’s _the_ Statue of Liberty.”

“It’s _a statue_.”

“It’s like Times Square, you have to see it once in your life.”

“Times Square is overrated.” Yuuri rolled his eyes. _Why am I in love with this man child again?_

“How dare you?!”

“I’m sorry?!”

“You better be,” Victor pouted.

“Terribly so,” Yuuri smirked a little. “I’m going to the studio then.”

“I’ll meet you there later, _then_ ,” Victor teased, a glimpse of a joke in his smile.

Yuuri got up and got ready for another day of work. He wore his comfortable sweater again, grabbed a thick scarf for walking in the cold, some snacks from the kitchen… He felt Victor’s eyes following him around from the couch where he cuddled Makkachin. He put on his heavy coat and a black beanie before heading to the door.

He felt a bit awkward.

Victor was right there, by the door, sitting on the couch, and Yuuri didn’t know what to do. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to just walk up there and kiss him – even if he wanted it _bad_. It would be all kinds of weird to leave without saying goodbye. A hug didn’t feel natural enough. Yuuri honestly considered going to the damned Statue of Liberty with Victor just so he didn’t have to make this decision. But then he thought of the piles of costumes he still had to finish and how the final fittings were just around the corner.

“So…” he broke the silence. “I’m gonna- I’m going to the studio now.”

“I’m heading out soon too, maybe we could meet for lunch?” Victor smile was like sunshine: extremely bright.

“Y-yeah! There are some good places around the studio, I think.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.” Yuuri was hyperaware of his body and he felt completely out of place.

“Yuuri, wait.” Victor got up from the couch and walked in his direction.

Yuuri turned around, hoping Victor would do something to dissipate that tension between them, something to make Yuuri feel less awkward and anxious; he didn’t really know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t:

“Your hat is inside out.” The model was biting his lips, probably holding down laughter.

Well. It did help.

“Come here, I’ll get it.” Victor took off the beanie from Yuuri’s head and flipped the right side around. For a designer, Yuuri sure didn’t seem to know clothing.

“Thank you,” he laughed a little as Victor put the beanie back on his head. Victor’s hands lingered a little, and slowly made their way down to Yuuri’s neck; he was right there, right in front of Yuuri, looking him in the eyes, inches away.

Yuuri wasn’t nervous.

He leaned into Victor’s touch, let himself _feel_ whatever he wanted. He didn’t have to be afraid of it, he didn’t have to shut his feeling out. He could enjoy the fact that Victor was going to kiss him, only feeling the slightest butterflies in his stomach: a shiver of anticipation.

Victor kissed him. It wasn’t just a peck this time; Victor’s mouth was moving against his and his hands were bringing Yuuri closer. Yuuri let himself loose, and let his hands wander too. He settled on Victor’s waist – he wasn’t wearing nearly as many layers as Yuuri and the warmth coming from his skin was lovely. Yuuri let out the most shameful whimper when Victor bit his bottom lip lightly, breaking the kiss.

It was a little less embarrassing when he saw how flushed Victor’s face was. Yuuri wished he could stay right there forever, in that frozen moment before his asshole of a model made fun of him.

“Have a good day, Yuuri.”

“I will,” Yuuri blurted before he could stop himself. “I never said that,” he grumbled, then left the apartment so fast he almost tumbled down the stairs. The door slammed behind him, but he could still hear Victor’s laughter through the door.

Whimpering episode aside, Yuuri was having a good day. He managed to get a lot of work done in the studio; he was almost done and not nearly as stressed as he had been with his previous collection. It wasn’t all smooth sailing either, of course, but he was content with how things were shaping up.

Minako texted him some other information about the show – mostly regarding the media. Apparently, Yuuri was too busy to realize people were actually interested in his collection. He owed that to Victor and Yuri, but according to Minako, it was also making people grow interested in his personal work.

He was just starting to get hungry when Victor arrived in the studio. Yuuri had described Victor countless time in his mind. Funny. Man-child. Stunningly beautiful. Asshole. It was an ever-changing description that grew as he got to know the real Victor better.

He had one more to add to the list.

Victor was a big _tourist_.

He got into the studio wearing a foam Statue of Liberty crown. A Statue of Liberty hoodie hugged his body instead of his usual sweaters. He looked _ridiculous_. Yuuri couldn’t believe this was the same Victor that wore intricate designs on high-fashion runways in Paris or Milan. It couldn’t possibly be the same man; it didn’t make sense.

“I’m guessing you enjoyed your morning,” Yuuri choked.

“It was amazing, Yuuri!” Victor giggled.

“I could tell. Where did you even get that?” Yuuri pointed at the foam crown.

“I bought it!”

“It’s hideous,” Yuuri laughed. It was a deformed grayish green mess.

“Where is your patriotic pride, Yuuri?” Victor teased.

“I’m Japanese, Victor. Anyway, do you want to have lunch? I’m almost done with this one.”

“Oh, that’s Yuri’s, right?”

“Yes. I had to make a couple of changes to fit his personality better. It was a little too pink before.” Yuuri smiled.

“Looks good…” the model mumbled. “Yuuri. How did you learn how to sew?”

“I don’t really remember.” Yuuri turned his attention to the costume again. “I think my mom taught me some basics and I ended up teaching myself a lot of things.”

“Is it hard?”

“It depends.”

“On what?” Victor insisted, pulling a chair to sit next to Yuuri. Normally that distance would have been a little too close; Victor’s knees were bumping against Yuuri’s thighs, but after that morning it just felt _right._

“Uh, it has many variables. Fabric, cut, the design you’re working with. If you want to make a cotton or stretchy jersey t-shirt it’s basic sewing, so it’s pretty easy. But more elaborate designs take more time and they’re a bit harder to work with.”

“Do you think I could learn it?”

“You want to learn how to sew?” Yuuri turned his eyes to Victor.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“I-I’m not a great teacher, but I supposed I could teach you something. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to learn how to sew?” Yuuri turned his eyes back to the costume.

“It seems fun.” Yuuri wasn’t looking, but he was sure Victor was smiling.

“Sure, uh, give me ten minutes to finish this one.”

Yuuri finished the costume hearing Victor blabbering about his tour on the Statue of Liberty; how he had chosen the perfect day because it wasn’t cold outside, and it was sunny, and how the tourists weren’t annoying at all, even if there were tons of them. He could gloat all he wanted about not being cold outside, but Yuuri noticed his lips were chapped and they _definitely_ weren’t this morning.

“I’m glad you had fun, Victor,” Yuuri grinned as he finished Yuri’s costume. “Now come on, let’s teach you how to sew a bit.”

Yuuri told Victor to take his seat while he got the materials. He decided on a simple cotton material; he should start with the basics. He sat next to Victor after cutting a square of the blue fabric he chose.

“Ready?”

“Yes. What are we making?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Nothing?” Victor frowned.

“It’s not that easy, you need to learn to make straight lines before. You don’t want to have crooked shirts, right?” Yuuri smiled a little. “Do you know your way around a sewing machine?”

“Not really, though I usually know my way around the clothes after they’re ready,” Victor joked and Yuuri grinned, but launched a lecture on sewing machines 101. He explained quickly how to use it and what the different setting did, or which stitch was best for different types of fabrics and finishes. Victor started to look discouraged after a few minutes, so Yuuri decided it was best to leave the explanations behind and let him try it himself.

“Just try to make straight lines, okay?” Yuuri smiled.

“Sounds easy enough.” Victor winked.

Victor started sewing. He was doing well; his stitches were just a little curved, nothing too noticeable for a beginner. His only mistake was not stretching the fabric enough as he went – it was starting to get scrunched and a little deformed, so Yuuri had to stop him.

“Look, you have to stretch the fabric more.” Yuuri got up from his seat to put his hands over Victor’s and showed him how much more he had to pull. “Try it. Do you see how this side is kind of crumpled? It’s because you let it a little too loose.”

“Right,” Victor mumbled. He started sewing again, with Yuuri’s help. His lines were still a little curved, but the fabric looked much better. Yuuri was about to compliment him on his skills when Victor stopped abruptly.

“Victor?” Yuuri looked at the model, hoping nothing was wrong. He only then noticed how close they were standing; they were basically hugging.

“Come here, Yuuri.” Victor pleaded, sounded just a little broken, enough to make Yuuri comply with his request right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! took me long enough, i know i'm sorry! college has been driving me crazy. I'd like to thank my adorable beta @cresstic, and you guys for leaving kudos and comments and all that <3  
> I'm on twitter @moimiles and also on tumblr @chuuuuuya  
> see y'all in the next chapter ;)


	13. We're not the same, I wish that could change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri couldn’t even consider asking him to stay. It would be like asking him to quit. Victor loved modeling, that much was painfully obvious.  
> He would never steal Victor from the world.

Yuuri was slowly learning more things about Victor as they spent time together. He learned how Victor was incredibly cuddly in the morning, and how he was not resistant to the cold at all, despite what the man claimed. He learned that Victor liked lemon in his tea and noticed that he had an immense love of dogs - every person walking their dog made Victor grin. Yet, Yuuri forgot one important thing he’d learned when they went out for lunch that afternoon. Victor was a _terrible_ tourist.

That’s the story of how Yuuri ended up at an Olive Garden near Times Square for lunch.

“It’s prime American cuisine, Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed.

“It’s Italian food, and overrated.”

Nothing he said shook Victor’s confidence. Yuuri had been thinking of getting brunch at a cute bistro off 5th avenue, but no. Here he was, in a crowded, overrated restaurant, only known for their breadsticks and lemonade.

It wasn’t the first time he’d make that mistake. They settled for a domestic and cozy routine of breakfast together at the apartment, then going out for lunch or dinner - after Yuuri had finished enough work that he didn’t feel guilty about leaving the studio - and every time he let Victor pick they’d end up in the worst chain food restaurants in New York.

Even though Yuuri didn’t really like those places, it was fun to see Victor enjoying himself. He _loved_ Olive Garden with a burning passion, and they had gone to Bubba Gump more times than he could count. Victor, with his child-like excitement and blinding smiles, was a pleasure to be around.

Because they were constantly in the spotlight by going to such touristic and crowded places, Victor always put a calculated distance between them. Yuuri, who once misinterpreted that distance as shame, now knew it was in his best interest to not hold Victor’s hand or sit too closely to him.

That didn’t mean the pain was gone.

It sucked. It was the worst thing ever to leave the studio, where they could share kisses and smiles, tease each other mercilessly, and act like the couple in love that they were, only to walk into the real world having to pretend that they didn’t feel a thing for each other. Yuuri’s heart broke a little every time they had to leave the studio; it felt they left their relationship inside.

He knew his model was doing it for _them_. For the collection. For Yuuri’s career. Logically, he knew this was one of the many ways Victor showed just how much he cared; the model rarely needed to express his feeling through words when his actions spoke much louder.

However, it didn’t explain the sinking feeling in his stomach. His life had been too _calm_ these past weeks. Nothing was going wrong. No problems with the clothes, no problems in the studio, no problems in his personal life… It felt odd, like the calm before a storm; a tangible anticipation to disaster.

The rational part of his brain told him that he and Victor not being able to be close in public didn’t mean anything. It was just a temporary situation, a little bump in the road. And yet Yuuri always ended up catching himself thinking about it. What if nothing about their relationship was real? What if everything was about Victor and he was private, a _secret_.

The thought popped into his mind right before he fell asleep and it was the first thing he thought about in the morning when he woke up, even though he was in Victor’s arms. Sometimes, even when he was cuddling up to Victor and Makkachin on the couch, his anxiety whispered in his ear, making him remember all of those awful ideas.

He didn’t want to talk to Victor about it. He considered it, really, but Yuuri had let his overthinking ruin so many things before and he thought he had it under control this time; he’d think about it briefly every day, but he was sure he was able to stop as soon as this was over. They were too close to the finish line.

So Yuuri let himself fall deeper and deeper for his model. It was _hard_ at first; he was too shy and too self-conscious to initiate anything. For the first couple of days, Yuuri ached to touch; he wanted to hold Victor’s hand. He wanted to lean in and kiss him before bed. He wanted to run his fingers through his model’s platinum hair. Yuuri wanted to make the first move.

And just like their first kiss, it came naturally, in the spur of the moment. Yuuri was sleepy, and walked into the kitchen to see Victor making coffee. He didn’t _think_ , he just acted. He gave Victor a good morning’s kiss and only considered it a moment later - blushing, his ears turning bright red.

Victor’s laughter probably woke up the whole building.

The couple of weeks before the final fittings went by in a heartbeat. Yuuri was divided; one part of him was overwhelmingly happy, while the other was waiting for the inevitable impending doom, which made the time fly by.

Yuuri walked into the studio alone that morning. They had agreed it’d be better if Victor arrived later, along with the other models. It didn’t help to ease the feeling of emptiness aching in Yuuri’s chest; he was already associating the studio with Victor’s warm presence.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Minako greeted him with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” Yuuri yawned.

“Late night?” she teased. Yuuri felt a blush creeping up his face, but thankfully his brain was awake enough to reply fast:

“Sewing,” he shrugged. It wasn’t the most brilliant of answers, but it was good enough that Minako didn’t press him further and they were able to focus on work; Yuuri had a lot of costumes he had yet to iron, so they had their minds and hands busy.

“The venue is booked, the furniture and decorations are all ready for the show… Basically, it’s all up to you and the models,” Minako explained, “We’re almost done.”

“So far, so good.” Yuuri grinned.

“Good? Yuuri, you have two _supermodels_ in your show. You don’t even know how much buzz your brand is making on social media. I wouldn’t be surprised if by your next collection your cast was twice as big and full of celebrities.”

“My next… collection?”

Yuuri hadn’t really thought about his career at all. He was so busy with sketching, sewing, fitting, and models that he didn’t focus on the most important thing about this collection: was he going to keep on designing?

The doors slammed open with a very loud Phichit letting himself in before Yuuri could do much thinking. He didn’t even need to look to the door to know it was his friend; he had a very characteristic laughter.

“Yuuri!”

“Good morning, Phichit,” Yuuri smiled.

“How is my favorite designer doing?”

“Is Ralph Lauren in here?!” Yuuri joked and Phichit giggled like a child.

The model insisted they take a selfie together, making Yuuri pose with him for nearly three hundred pictures until the angle, lighting, and faces were good enough for Phichit’s aesthetic Instagram.

Yuuri had missed him.

After that, he had his hands full. The models were starting to arrive, and they all wanted to chat for a bit before they tried on their costumes. Yuuri, while focused, kept an eye on the door, waiting for Victor to come in.

He arrived at the studio fashionably late as usual. Victor was still wearing his sunglasses when he arrived, and Yuuri noticed that Yuri walked closely behind him, his hood pulled up, almost hiding his eyes. He looked angry, but then again, Yuuri had never seen the Russian teen looking _happy_.

“Good morning!”

“Oi! You’re still wearing sunglasses dumbass,” Yuri complained.

“It’s still bright,” Victor smiled and Yuri just rolled his eyes.

Yuuri couldn’t help but let a smile bloom on his lips. Victor’s presence was so _calming_. He suddenly felt at ease; like he was safe. Even Yuri’s gloomy attitude didn’t affect him; Yuuri felt anchored in place, steady as a rock.

It was weird how after many, many sleepless nights sketching and sewing Yuuri was suddenly so close to the finish line. Seeing his creations come alive as the models tried them on was so satisfying. He was watching his imagination come to life right in front of his eyes; it was a magical moment. Yuuri figured that was how writers felt when they finally published their books.

There were very few adjustments to make this time – he would probably be able to finish everything in a day or two - and then all Yuuri would have to do was not let his anxiety take over before the show. Now he just needed to decide if he was staying and working as a designer or if he would go back to Japan and pretend none of it ever happened.

Not an easy decision to make.

It was stressful work; both mentally and physically. Yuuri had to do everything – he had to sketch, sew, cast, and produce. It made him tired to the bone, and he would probably have back problems before he was thirty. The work also took a toll on his anxiety.

Yet, it was something he _loved_. He knew that if he quit and went back to Japan he would still sew and design – he had been doing it for so long it wasn’t really a job anymore, but a part of him. It was a part of his personality, and had been part of his life for ages. It was unreasonable for him to dismiss it so easily. He was torn.

Yuuri’s thoughts were pushed away from his head when he heard Victor talking again. At first, he thought he was just too far away from Yuuri, and that’s why his words didn’t make sense. Then Yuuri noticed he was speaking in _Russian._ It was so hauntingly beautiful; the language flowing delicately in the air, soft but powerful. The designer allowed himself to look away from his work for a mere second. He just needed to see Victor speaking; it was pulling him in like a magnet.

Victor was chatting with Yuri. The younger teen had relaxed a little from talking in his native language; he had assumed a less harsh posture, making him look more his age. Victor, though… God. Victor was _beaming_. There was probably something about being in touch with his culture that made him look so incredibly happy – Yuuri couldn’t help but feel it pull at his heartstrings.

Then it hit him.

Victor had to go back to Russia at some point. He wouldn’t stay in New York with Yuuri forever. Even if he didn’t go back to Russia, he was still a model, he travelled the world for a living. Yuuri couldn’t even _consider_ asking him to stay. It would be like asking him to quit _._ Victor loved modeling, that much was painfully obvious.

He would never steal Victor from the world.

Yuuri felt like he was drowning. There were waves of realization hitting him harder and harder, and he couldn’t come up for air even though he tried, thrashing around helplessly.

It ached him to watch Victor now, so he turned his eyes back to his work. One of the biggest reasons this collection had been successful was because of Victor. How would Yuuri ever be able to endure the process again without him? He thought of his empty apartment and how Victor had brought life to it, making it a home. Yuuri had let Victor in: into his life, into his house, and into his heart.

It was going to destroy Yuuri when Victor left. It was terrifying that they had an expiration date Yuuri hadn’t even thought about; the show would end and Victor would leave. How could he share so much of his life and love with the model if he was going to take the next exit out?

It didn’t help that Victor was next in line for fittings. He looked stunning in his Eros costume. _It couldn’t fit any better_ , Yuuri thought bitterly as he checked the new stitches for any loose fabric. Victor was talking to him, probably teasing him, but Yuuri’s ears were full of cotton. He just nodded along because he was terrified of his voice breaking if he tried to speak.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked when Yuuri told him to get his Agape costume. Yuuri nodded and tried to give the model a smile. Maybe he could pretend he was concentrated; that would make sense.

And then disaster struck harder.

Yuuri was trying to fix one little problem on Victor’s Agape costume when the fabric _ripped._ It felt like a scene from a movie; the whole room went silent and all Yuuri could hear was the noise it made. At least four models turned their heads in Yuuri’s direction and he couldn’t think anymore – there were _at least_ five different sirens going off in his head.

“Shit.”

“You can fix that, right?” Victor asked. His voice was calm and soothing, as if he was trying to keep Yuuri grounded.

 _How dare you be calm?!_ Yuuri wanted to yell. He couldn’t fix it – it was a rip right in the upper body part. If it was the sleeves or the legs it’d be quicker to fix, but no. He’d have to remake basically _everything_. He didn’t even know if he had enough lace to fix that and suddenly he found himself breathing in but no air reached his lungs.

If one had ripped, any of the other costumes could rip. God, if he had another costume fall apart in the middle of the runway Yuuri was going to _die_. He wouldn’t even need to kill himself – his heart would just stop beating right away.

Was his heart even beating _now_?  It surely didn’t feel like it.

Yuuri was so lost inside his head he didn’t feel time running away from him. He had a vague memory of saying goodbye to Phichit and the other models as they left. Maybe Minako talked to him? He wasn’t sure about what though.

“Yuuri. Yuuri?” He heard his name being called and finally realized it was just him and Victor inside the studio.

“Sorry, I-uh, got distracted.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Yuuri?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, that rip is not a big deal, okay?” Victor took a step closer. “It’s going to be _fine_. You have plenty of time to fix it.” The model raised his hand, probably to touch Yuuri’s face in a reassuring gesture, but Yuuri unconsciously took a step back, furthering the distance between the two.

“S-sorry, I should probably w-work on it now.”

“It’s almost time for lunch. Why don’t we go grab something to eat and then you work?” Victor expression softened a little.

“I’m not really hungry.” It was true. Yuuri felt sick and his stomach would probably reject anything he tried to eat right now. “Y-you can go. I just need to get this done.” He avoided Victor’s blue eyes carefully.

He saw the model part his lips like he had something else to say, but no words came out. Victor just waved, smiling at Yuuri as he left the shop. The designer knew Victor was worried about him, but he didn’t have time to give it a second thought. As soon as Yuuri was alone, he felt tears burning at the back of his eyes and his throat constricted.

He started crying.

He felt inadequate. Not only was he a terrible designer that couldn’t even _sew_ properly but he was also hurting the person he loved most. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Victor, but at the same time, how was he supposed to enjoy their time together when their end was so soon?

It was hard to pull himself together.

How was he supposed to stay in New York after Victor had tainted all of Manhattan with memories of the two of them together? How was he supposed to design and sew if he didn’t have Victor practicing alongside him and grumbling in Russian at his sewing machine whenever he made a mistake? How was he ever to see his creations come to life if they weren’t on Victor’s body?

He needed to quit.

This was it. It was the end of his career. The end of an era. It was too hard to go on. Every single time something was working out for him the world fell apart, and Yuuri had to pick up the pieces of his broken heart and start again, and considering this was his most important collection, he’d retire with a bang. His heart was heavy with the decision, but relieved it wouldn’t be smashed to smithereens again.

So Yuuri decided not to think too much of it. He started working on remaking Victor’s Agape costume. He could save the sleeves and legs, but the middle part would have to be completely remade. Yuuri got into his anxiety-induced work-mode; he was focused because he was panicking – he knew he had just a couple of days to finish everything.

Victor came back, bringing him lunch from Olive Garden. Yuuri mumbled his thanks, but didn’t eat at all; he wasn’t hungry. The model tried to press him to eat, talk, or just overall act like a normal human being but Yuuri _couldn’t_. He knew it was awful, and that he shouldn’t be pushing Victor away, not when Yuuri needed him the most.

Victor was unusually quiet and the silence was uncomfortable; every little noise echoed around the studio. Yuuri tried so hard to get himself out of his slump but every time he even looked away from the costume he felt like there were sirens going off in his brain; and then all he could think was a string of, “ _I’m not going to finish this in time, I’m gonna fail again, oh God, oh God_...”

“Yuuri, you have to eat something,” Victor insisted, sitting right next to him. It was too close; Yuuri’s heart ached in yearning for a comforting touch, for a kiss and a hug that said more than any words could. And then he thought of how much worse just one kiss could make their separation be, and it hurt even more.

“It’s going to be night soon. You need to eat, and then you need to sleep.”

“I need to finish this.” Yuuri didn’t even look up.

“That’s _insane_ , Yuuri! You can’t finish that in one night,” Victor insisted. “That’s too much work. You can’t stay up or avoid eating until you finish.”

Yuuri just shrugged.

Victor placed his hand on his shoulder, which made Yuuri flinch, not expecting the touch. He looked at Victor to see his beautiful eyes sadder than he’d ever seen them. He leaned into Yuuri, making the designer pull away. Victor pursed his lips and shook his head before speaking.

“I can’t do this, Yuuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRYYYYYYY  
> Y'all can blame @cresstic for the cliffhanger being the worst possible. She suggested it. (ilu natalie)  
> Next update should be in a about a week, and if you want to yell at me, I'm on twitter @moimiles.  
> ALSO tysm for your comments and kudos, they keep me writing <3


	14. You won't understand how much it hurts to let you go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor placed his hand on his shoulder, which made Yuuri flinch, not expecting the touch. He looked at Victor to see his beautiful eyes sadder than he’d ever seen them. He leaned into Yuuri, making the designer pull away. Victor pursed his lips and shook his head before speaking.
> 
> “I can’t do this, Yuuri.”

“I can’t run after you every time,” Victor sneered as he put on his coat. “I’m going back ho-to the apartment, and spending some time with Makkachin. I believe you have some thinking to do.”

Yuuri couldn’t watch Victor walking away; it felt too real considering their situation. So, he just tried to ignore the sound of his footsteps in the quiet studio; he slammed the door behind him. The sound echoed in Yuuri’s head, not letting him forget that _yes_ , Victor _left_ , and that door slamming was proof of it.

Sadly, Yuuri was too deeply affected by his twisted thoughts to notice that Victor almost called the apartment _‘home'_.

His body was frozen in place because his mind was running too fast; he was dizzy with the amount of problems his brain had to overthink this time. The big three - Victor, the ruined costume, and his career - The holy trinity of anxiety. Yuuri couldn’t focus on one long enough to find a solution or any idea of how to fix it.

There was only one thing he could do; finish the easiest one. The one that depended on his time and concentration only. He pulled out the costume, knowing, deep down, that depending on how things went with Victor he wouldn’t feel like finishing it on time, if he even could.

The intricate design and mix of fabrics kept him focused enough that his problems were not in the foreground of his mind. They were still there, knotting the heartstrings in his chest and filling his head cotton, but at least Yuuri wasn’t constantly hearing Victor say, ‘ _I can’t do this_ ’ anymore.

He was, however, painfully aware of how much Victor had changed his life. He hadn’t worked his life away like this in a while; all because his model insisted he ate, slept, and  _actually lived_ outside of the studio. Yuuri was focused on the fabric and the stitches, consequently losing track of time, but he knew it had been a while when his back started to hurt. His head was aching horribly – a migraine that probably wasn’t going away unless he got solid eight hours of sleep.

It was the light-headedness that made Yuuri stop sewing. Yes, his hands were sore and his back was probably going to hurt for the next week, but when dark spots starting dancing in front of his eyes, he knew it was time to take a break and eat something. He picks up his phone to check the time, and it was shocking to see how late - well - _early_ it was.

The sun was coming up.

He made himself some coffee with loads of sugar. _I just need to finish the lace_ , he told himself. _Then I can go home._ _I’m not avoiding Victor_. Except he was. It was one thing to decide to push away the man he loved, but it was completely different to be called on it; he was avoiding confrontation at all costs. It was just too hard.

Before he dwelled too much on what Victor wanted him to do, Yuuri got back to sewing. It was about twenty minutes later that he swore he’d never work with lace again – it was a pain in the ass, quite literally, considering how long he had been sitting there.

Morning sunlight was filtering through the curtains when he was done. He still needed to glue some rhinestones down before he was absolutely done with the costume, but that wasn’t as time consuming; he even found it relaxing in comparison.

He was putting on his coat when the thought popped into his head; he was just so relieved to be standing up and getting ready to go back home. Yuuri was mentally and physically exhausted; neither his mind or his body could keep up with this rhythm anymore.

For one awful moment, Yuuri sighed in relief at the thought of retirement.

He decided it wasn’t the time to think about _that_ ; it was nearly seven in the morning when he left the studio, and even though the sun was shining in the sky, it was freezing outside. New York couldn’t let him have _one damn thing_.  He only walked a couple blocks from the studio to his apartment, and yet his chin was numb by the time he walked into the building. He desperately needed something to eat, some scalding hot tea (he’d had way too much coffee, his hands were shaky), and perhaps a nap.

Yuuri unlocked the door to his home to find Victor asleep on the couch. He was probably waiting for Yuuri, considering he was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. It was endearing how he was clinging onto Makkachin for dear life – the poor dog was squeezed into a bear hug.

The scene made tears flood his eyes - yes, he was extremely sleep deprived, mentally drained and overall _beat_. He could cry over anything in that moment, just because it was cute. But Victor asleep on his couch, waiting for him… It was too much for Yuuri’s poor heart. He felt loved but he also felt like _shit_ for trying to push Victor away.

And then it hit him that soon he would come home to an empty apartment.

No wet towels on the bathroom floor, no coffee made in the morning, no bubble gum pop tunes blasting in the shower, no Makkachin barking as he came home… No Victor. It all hurt.

Maybe he should move out, find a new apartment that wasn’t tainted with memories. But then again, he might as well find that apartment in Japan, where there were no Victor related memories.

(Except for his bedroom walls at the onsen covered in Victor posters and magazine excerpts, but he could probably remove them. Although, he was pretty sure he _glued_ a few of them to the wall when he was little.)

New York was now a memory lane of their time together. Yuuri had grown a special love for places he absolutely despised before Victor came along and made him adore them. God, how was he _ever_ supposed to walk down Times Square without his goddamn model being a child and pulling Yuuri into the worst stores?

Yuuri shook the thoughts away from his head and decided he deserved a hot shower and some comfortable clean clothes before he did any more thinking. So he hopped in the shower, which helped soothe his backache, but also made him a lot sleepier. Even his migraine was a bit less intense, and when he got dressed in his most comfortable sweater, Yuuri almost felt better.

Almost.

Victor was still asleep in the living room; it was pretty damn early after all. Yuuri decided to try and make something for breakfast. His fridge was nearly empty, and the only things he managed to whip out were scrambled eggs and coffee. When the food was ready and the smell of freshly brewed coffee was _killing_ him, Yuuri swallowed his anxiety and walked into the living room to wake up Victor.

“Good morning,” Yuuri murmured softly. His heart was beating his sanity away, five million beats per second. It felt like an adrenaline rush watching Victor’s eyelashes fluttering as he woke up.

“Yuuri?”

“I’m ho-here,” he choked out the word ‘home’. Even though it really was home, he couldn’t say it out loud. It was impossible to say, especially, in front of a very sleepy and cranky looking model – a model who might not feel the same at all. “I-uh, I made you coffee.”

(Yuuri was probably the densest person on the planet.)

“What time is it?” Victor rubbed the sleep away from his eyes lazily while Makkachin left the couch.

“It’s almost nine.”

“Oh.” The model slowly sat up, raising his arms to stretch a bit. His sweater pulled just a bit, giving Yuuri a spectacular view of Victor’s stomach.

“I-uh, I finished your, uh, costume.” He tried incredibly hard not to sound dumbstruck, and failed miserably.

Victor did something terrible when he heard Yuuri speak. It was something that broke Yuuri’s heart into a million pieces and made it feel as if he was breathing sand; it made the world stop turning in the worst way.

Victor gave him a sad, miserable smile.

It wasn’t just that ridiculously upset smile that made Yuuri’s chest ache. It was the fact that he knew exactly what Victor was thinking about: when Yuuri finished the model’s Eros costume. Thinking back now, it felt like a _million_ years ago. It was bitter to see how sad Victor looked now comparing to how immensely happy he was the first time Yuuri said he finished one of his costumes.

Yuuri thought back to Victor parading around the studio in his costume, singing the silliest songs, and pulling the funniest faces. Right now, his face was distorted with sadness and it was just downright awful.

“Yuuri-”

“I know,” Yuuri nodded. “We need to talk.”

“Breakfast first?”

Yuuri nodded again.

They had breakfast in silence. It wasn’t their usual, comfortable, and sleepy morning silence; the tension was so palpable it could be cut with a knife. Yuuri couldn’t taste his eggs at all, and he was thankful he decided not to have coffee but some green tea instead; caffeine always spiked his anxiety.

Even Makkachin sensed there was something off. The dog was asleep on the couch when Victor and Yuuri walked back to the living room. By the time they set their cups on the coffee table, Makkachin was nowhere to be seen; probably hiding in the bedroom.

Victor took a large gulp of his coffee and then spoke:

“Before we start, can I just say something? It’s… Just something I want you to keep in mind.” The model’s voice sounded insecure, and Yuuri noticed his hands were shaking a bit. That was something new for Victor; his self-esteem was usually higher than the Empire State building.

“I-yes.”

“I love yo-”

“Please don’t say that,” Yuuri interrupted Victor, feeling his stomach dropping. He knew that it was warm inside his apartment, but suddenly his fingertips felt incredibly cold.

It got worse when he saw the look on Victor’s face.

“Yuuri…” Victor rasped and his face fell. He had never seen such a clear expression of sadness on his model’s face and Yuuri just wanted to _cry_. Why was everything so damn hard?!

“I’m sorry Victor, I’m so sorr- I can’t hear that now.”

“You can’t hear it or you can’t say it back?!” Victor’s voice was sharp.

“Both.” Yuuri replied after a heartbeat. Victor’s eyes looked bluer somehow, and he realized: they were filled with tears.

“I thought- I-” the model mumbled, trying desperately to find words, but none came to mind. Yuuri couldn’t see his eyes anymore, so he reached out, sweeping Victor’s bangs away from his face.

Victor was crying.

“Victor… Are you crying?” Yuuri’s voice came out as a whisper.

He looked like a goddamn greek sculpture. His face was cold like marble and just as unmoving. His tears were flooding his eyes and rolling down his cheeks slowly. Victor didn’t move, he just let them fall, as if he didn’t know how to deal with tears.

And then he slapped Yuuri’s hand away.

“What do you think Yuuri? What do you think?!” He raised his voice, and then shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. “Can I at least know why? Why can’t you even listen to it?”

“You’re-”

“I think I deserve at least one good reason,” the model interrupted. “Unless I was completely, utterly blind about us-”

“You’re leaving!” Yuuri barked before Victor interrupted him again. He blurted it out, the words bursting from inside his chest, as if his feelings needed to be spoken.

“I… what?” Victor stopped dead on his tracks.

“You’re leaving New York. You’re leaving _me_. You’re going back to Russia, Italy, Spain- w-wherever! You’re going anywhere but here and I can’t take it... It’s tearing me apart. I can’t make this more painful that it already is, Victor. I can’t. You’ll leave and you’ll take my heart along with you.” Yuuri slowly calmed his voice as he confessed all the feelings that had been plaguing his head for the past day. Yuuri was too busy feeling his heart breaking inside his chest to notice the tears spilling from his eyes.

“You-you think I’m leaving?”

“I’m not stupid Victor.”

“Yes. _Yes_ , you are. You are very goddamned stupid. Yuuri. _I am in love with you_ ,” Victor raised his hands to cradle Yuuri’s cheeks, forcing the designer to look at him. “I love you. I’m staying wherever you are. I’m not going anywhere if you’re not going with me.”

“I-I can’t ask you to do that,” Yuuri felt hiccups crawling up his throat. He hated how pathetic he sounded. “I can’t steal you from the world, from your job. I can’t _do that_.”

“You’re not asking, I’m saying,” Victor’s lips turned up a little, a very small, shy smile blooming on his face. “I’ve… I’ve never had _this_. An us. I’ve never wanted to stay before. Please, Yuuri, _please_ let me stay. I want to stay with you. Here.”

Yuuri felt like he had swallowed the world’s biggest cotton ball. He couldn’t say anything, not without making himself sob, so he just nodded eagerly. Victor hugged him so fast it felt like he had been tackled and although he couldn’t breathe because of how tight Victor held him, he couldn’t give two shits about it.

That hug mended his heart.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered in his model’s ear. Victor slowly let go of the hug, but held Yuuri’s hands in his.

“Is… is that why you were acting so weird?”

Yuuri nodded.

“I can’t do _this_ alone. I swear I would move mountains for you, Yuuri, but I need to feel like you would do the same for me. I need you to tell me what you feel t-”

“I love you,” Yuuri blurted before he could stop himself.

Yuuri had had a terrible day – as in, twenty-four terrible hours of sheer disaster. He was mentally, physically, and even emotionally exhausted. He’d had his heart broken and then mended all in one day. So the moment Victor said he needed to tell him what he felt, Yuuri didn’t even blink; he just came clean, told him everything in three simple words.

And it was worth it. So ridiculously worth it. Why? Because Victor smiled, an actual happy smile. Maybe happy was underrated for that smile. Sparkly. Vibrant. Ecstatic. There were not enough words in the English language to describe it.

It was then that Yuuri realized just how truthful the model’s words were. He looked at Yuuri as if he hung the stars in the sky, as if the sun only came up every morning because of Yuuri and Yuuri alone. The man was in love, maybe just as much as Yuuri was. It was a blessing.

“You do?”

“I do,” Yuuri smiled back. “But-”

“Oh. Oh no. No buts. No. Nope.” Victor used his free hand to cover Yuuri’s mouth. “You’re done talking. You love me. It’s out there. You can’t take it back. No, sir.”

Yuuri laughed a bit. Even though Victor was just being his usual extra self, there was something in his voice, a hint of desperation that showed he was still worried; insecure even. So Yuuri gently removed the model’s hand from his mouth.

“Victor, I love you. Nothing is changing that,” he pretended not to blush as his own bluntness.

“Promise?”

“Yes. I do.”

“So… your ‘but’ has nothing to do with that?”

“My butt has nothing to do with anything,” Yuuri joked, trying to get Victor to smile brightly once again. He wanted to let his model be at ease. If the last twenty-four hours were hard for him, they were probably hard on Victor too; he deserved to feel at peace at least for a while.

“Your butt has everything to do with everything, actually. It’s a cute butt,” the model teased with a smirk that made Yuuri’s cheeks feel hot. He tried not to feel too embarrassed. “Your other ‘but’, though… It terrified me half to death.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Your hair turned gray,” he giggled and Victor rolled his eyes, but the smile on his lips didn’t leave.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“What did you want to tell me then?”

“Well, this, uh, it’s been troubling me for a little while now. I think you deserve to know.”

Victor narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“After this collection debut, I’m… I’m retiring, Victor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darkness my old friend,,,, hi guys  
> We're headed towards the end! Unfortunately, we only have 2 or so chapters left. However, I have a stripper!au that should be up anytime next week, and I'm already planning other Victuuri fics.  
> By the way, the title of the fic comes from a song called Too Close for Comfort by McFly and I listened to it on repeat writing this and it's just Angst™  
> Also, again, thanks @cresstic for being the world best and most evil beta to ever exist!!!  
> See y'all next week or on twitter @moimiles ♥


	15. You know it’s all because of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “After this collection debut, I’m… I’m retiring, Victor.”  
> “You’re-” Victor’s face fell. He was almost glowing before, his eyes sparkling and his smile glorious, but now he just looked like someone had told him he’d fallen seriously ill.

“After this collection debut, I’m… I’m retiring, Victor.”

“You’re-” Victor’s face fell. He was almost glowing before, his eyes sparkling and his smile glorious, but now he just looked like someone had told him he’d fallen seriously ill. It confused Yuuri. Yes, he was running on stress and caffeine, and he probably needed a power nap but he couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why Victor looked so miserable.

“Yes. The stress, the anxiety, it’s not-I don’t think it’d be healthy for me to carry on like this.”

“Yuuri, are you sure?”

“I am not one hundred percent sure. I could never be,” he smiled softly, “but I do think it’s for the best. I want to try to get- well, better sounds too shallow and stereotypical, but I honestly would love to spend a month without crushing anxiety.” He tried to make his tone lighter, smiling at Victor, but the tension was growing again.

Yuuri thought about Victor asking him to be honest about his feelings. It was hard; he had to sit and ponder upon which words he would use to express exactly what he wanted, but he was _trying_. He hoped Victor would use his stupid power of seeing right through him and understand that it was hard.

“I-I also don’t want it to be between us.” Yuuri’s words caught the model’s attention.

“What do you mean?” Victor cocked his head.

“You said you’ve never had this,” Yuuri gestured back and forth between them, “I’ve never had it either. I-it makes me so incredibly _happy_ , Victor. I know my anxiety makes it difficult and I know it will get between us from time to time.”

“You’re retiring… Because of me?” Victor’s voice cracked, softening.

“No! No, it’s not that. I’ve been pondering retirement for a long time now. I-I promised myself that if this collection didn’t work out I’d quit for good. And while it _has_ been working out so far… It is hard to explain, I hope you can understand it,” Yuuri choked on his words.

He didn’t know how to describe his feelings and his decisions; he’d never had to before. He was used to _feeling_ and then doing. He’d never had anyone he’d needed to explain things to – or even someone interested.

“What are you going to do then?” Victor asked after a few seconds of silence. Yuuri hated how he couldn’t really read him; it was so hard to get anything out from Victor.

“I don’t know yet,” Yuuri laughed awkwardly, “I’m considering keeping the shop open, but that can also be very stressful-”

“You can’t avoid stress for the rest of your life,” Victor interrupted him. While there was an aggressive edge to his voice, his eyes were soft. Yuuri wished he knew what the model was thinking – for someone who wanted to understand Yuuri better, Victor didn’t help much doing the opposite.

“I know it’s quite cowardly of me, but it’s my decision,” Yuuri reached to touch Victor’s hands. “I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but I suppose I’ll have plenty of time to think about it. Will-uh, you’ll be with me, right?” The designer’s voice dropped to a whisper; while he wanted to be more forward and honest about his feelings, there was the constant, lingering fear of rejection.

“Of course I will,” Victor smiled softly. He pulled Yuuri forward by his hands to hug him; a tight hug that made Yuuri feel warm and _safe_. He wondered if Victor could feel his heartbeat bursting from his chest.

He felt Victor’s lips right next to his ear before the model spoke again.

“I think this is more painful than anything that has happened today,” he sounded breathless, but weak laughter left his lips.

“I-I‘m sorry,” Yuuri mumbled.

He didn’t understand at all. They had been through hell together and came out as conquerors, and Yuuri’s retirement made him the saddest? It didn’t make sense, they were supposed to be _happy_ ; there weren’t any secret feelings between them anymore, all of their cards were on the table.

Why did _retirement_ hit Victor so hard?

It was supposed to hit _Yuuri_. He only came back to New York to try and prove to himself that he was still a good designer and could still exercise his occupation without major problems; that he had only needed a long vacation. And then he failed – not professionally, but mentally – and he was okay with that. It wasn’t the best feeling in the world, of course, but it was fine.

“Don’t be sorry, _solnyshko_ ,” he reassured with a set smile, “I’m being selfish. I’m proud of you for making such a difficult decision.” Victor placed a little kiss on Yuuri’s forehead, easing the designer’s mind.

“Hey, what if we went to the studio? You still need to try on your new outfit,” Yuuri suggested.

“Yuuri, you need to get some sleep.”

“Well, I could use a nap.”

“Come on,” Victor got up from the couch and offered Yuuri his hands to help him get up, “let’s take a _long_ nap.”

“You just woke up.”

“And I already need a nap,” Victor winked and both of them giggled like children.

The next couple of days were stressful. Yuuri used every single waking hour to dedicate himself to the show, from gluing rhinestones to his costumes to solving last-minute problems with the venue they booked and the decorations.

He was so thankful Victor was there. Victor was _wonderful._ He helped Yuuri in every way he could – if he wasn’t in the studio assisting in double checking all the seams and stitches of every costume, he was problem-solving with the designer. He bought groceries when Yuuri couldn’t, and rubbed Yuuri’s sore shoulders at night.

The best part was the kisses – they were becoming routine. Yuuri was _used_ to waking up with kisses and the feeling of Victor’s lips on his was the last thing he felt before falling asleep. He didn’t feel a bombarding explosion of butterflies every time Victor kissed him; that feeling had been replaced by a warm, cozy feeling blooming in his core. Yuuri tried not to name it, but he knew it was love.

The morning of the show, Yuuri woke up tangled in Victor’s arms. It gave him that same warm feeling make his heart beat stronger, as if it was happy to be there. Waking up like that almost erased Yuuri’s anxiety (it very nearly erased every other thought from his head except Victor).

He managed to get up without waking the model up – it was still too early, Victor didn’t have to be up until much later. He deserved to get a little more sleep. Yuuri hopped in the shower and tried not to let any images other than Victor in his bed enter his head. It did amazingly well to distract him; there was a reason the man was a _supermodel_. He was very easy on the eyes.

Yuuri left the shower giggling. He dressed up for the first time in weeks – formal black pants and jacket, blue button down shirt underneath… He didn’t really have time to think about his appearance too much, but when he glanced at a mirror he almost felt pretty.

He had his first cup of coffee before Victor showed up. The model was his usual morning self – clingy and needy. He sat too close to Yuuri and laid his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. They didn’t talk at all during breakfast, but it felt so nice.

Yuuri kissed the top of Victor’s head before going back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. He gelled his hair back as he usually did for his collections’ debut and brushed his teeth – the designer was ready before Victor had even finished breakfast.

It was way too early to head to the venue and he and Victor had agreed to go together. He was nervous and excited; he wanted to see how his collection would turn out, but at the same time it was hard to accept that this could be the last time ever.

But he tried not to dwell in that. He distracted himself by texting Minako; she was giving him updates about how everything was running. She was on her way to the venue with the costumes.

As soon as Victor was ready, they were on their way to the venue too. The ride there was too fast; Yuuri hoped he’d have more time to enjoy himself before the real stress began; the problem with this part of the collection debut was that he didn’t have _time_ to think and fix any problems. It was a tight deadline.

Walking into the venue and seeing it decorated and ready for the show was surreal. Everything looked perfect from floor to ceiling – it was more than Yuuri could have asked for. He felt tears coming to his eyes because he had worked so damn hard to make this, and being this close to the finish line felt like a dream.

Now all Yuuri had to do was not to let any costumes tear on the runway.

“Yuuri, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m f-fine,” he choked on the word as his brain started to panic; he started to think of how he wouldn’t have time to fix any costumes now, and if anything fell apart on the runway, his last show would be a disaster. He would be remembered as that one designer that can’t sew so he quit.

“You’re panicking.”

“Yes.” Yuuri tried to remember the last time he felt air coming into his lungs. Goddammit. He thought he could avoid this for at least an hour or until something actually happened; turned out he couldn’t avoid it for _a minute_.

“Why?” Victor turned Yuuri to look at him, making the designer’s eyes focus on the man he loved rather than on the catwalk.

“Your costume fell a-apart, what if others do too?”

“They won’t. We doubled checked all of them, tested the stitches and the rhinestones on them at least twice, remember?” Victor’s voice softened as he talked.

“Yes.” Yuuri felt a little bit of air rushing into his lungs.

“And if it does fall apart, don’t worry. I’ll be right by the curtain butt naked, ready to streak down the catwalk. Don’t think anyone will pay attention to a ripped seam when there’s a naked model on the runway,” Victor winked and Yuuri actually laughed at the ridiculous scene he was describing. It made his panic subside for a bit, but it didn’t go away.

“I-thank you,” Yuuri smiled weakly. He wanted to say ‘I love you’, but the models were already arriving, crowding the venue with chatter and laughter. Victor, however, seemed to understand what Yuuri meant, smiling back at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

So Yuuri let himself stare at Victor for just a second longer before falling into work mode. Minako helped him guide the models backstage to their dressing rooms. All of Yuuri’s models were grown-ups, with Yuri being the youngest at 15, but most of them acted like _children._

He tried to explain the order of the catwalk and who was opening and closing the show – which was quite a big deal, Yuuri thought the models would be quieter for it – and they were still chatting and trying to find seats next to their friends. The designer spotted Victor in the crowd, thinking he would be focused and trying to pay attention to Yuuri.

Well... he wasn’t.

He was talking to Yuri, his back turned to the designer. Yuri was making dramatic gestures – Victor was probably talking about something that made the Russian teen angry, but then again, what _didn’t_ make him angry?

Watching that scene unfold in front of him, Yuuri felt sadness settle inside his chest. He was going to miss all of this – designing, models, the whole adventure of a new collection. Maybe he could keep the store and keep designing. People would eventually lose interest after a while with no new collection debuts, but he’d get to stay in New York.

If he didn’t have the shop, however, it’d be harder to stay in New York. Yuuri considered his options while Minako tried to get the models’ attention. Maybe he could apply for an office fashion job; he had a pretty good resume, considering.

He hated that idea. A lot. Designing and managing his store was one thing; he depended on himself alone. He didn’t need to get involved with any other people and all his mistakes would only bring _him_ down. Working with other people meant depending on others, and that didn’t really please the designer.

Minako managed to explain the show order to the models and asked them to get ready for rehearsals. Yuuri was looking forward to that; the models walking with the actual music, on the catwalk… Not only did it ease his mind that things were going smoothly, but it also made him feel accomplished.

Rehearsals went surprisingly well. Yuuri rearranged the order of the models a couple of times; he originally thought of Phichit for opening the Eros part of the show, but he had to replace him with Yuri. Not because he was walking down the runway and blowing Yuuri kisses – it had nothing to do with Phichit himself.

It had to do with Yuri.

The model was almost a foot shorter than most of the models in the show, and yet there was a fierceness to the way he held himself and walked- no, _stomped_ down the runway that he couldn’t be more perfect. He fit in perfectly and Yuuri wouldn't be surprised if the Russian teen stole the show.

The only problem was his Agape walk – Yuri looked furious. He was walking right after Victor, who opened the show, and even though there was nothing indicating anger in his walk, his eyes felt like they could burn holes through Yuuri’s head. He made a mental note to talk to the model about it as soon as he could.

And Victor… Victor was making Yuuri’s legs feel wobbly. He opened the show with Agape – and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel like he was pouring love into his walk. His eyes showed such raw affection that Yuuri felt like everyone in the room just _knew_ it was obvious. At least, it seemed that way for the designer.

It way past lunch time when Yuuri finally took a break. He had been so busy he hadn’t sat down in _hours_. His back was aching and his legs were tired and the show hadn’t even started. The models’ lunch had been delivered, the make-up artist had already arrived, and just when he was about to get himself busy again, Minako yelled at him, telling him to sit down and _just eat something_.

 _Gladly_ , he thought. He had been hearing his stomach complaining for a while now, so he was craving some food – heck, he’d be happy with just a slice of bread at this point.

Yuuri was walking backstage, where Minako was waiting for him with lunch when he felt someone grab his arm forcefully.

He turned to see Yuri staring at him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His accent was a bit thicker. Yuuri thought back to when Victor’s accent got more visible: when he was distressed. The designer tried to blink the confusion from his eyes.

“Uh, I’m get-getting food?” He wasn’t too sure what answer the teen wanted. “Actually, Yuri, I wanted to talk to you abou-”

“You’re really retiring?” Yuri interrupted, ignoring Yuuri’s words.

“Yes, I am. Who told you?”

“Who do you think?” He crossed his arms, shaking his head in disdain.

“I-oh.”

“Listen, I couldn’t give two shits whether you’re retiring or not,” Yuri forcefully pointed at the designer, his tone getting more aggressive as he spoke, “I think it’s pathetic that you’re retiring on such a ridiculous note. This collection is garbage. So, if you want to end your sad woe-is-me career here, suit yourself.”

“Thanks, Yuri.” Yuuri tried not to show how much those words upset him, but he ended up sounding just as bitter as he felt.

It didn’t help that he was already anxious about the collection, but having someone calling it ‘garbage’ _hurt_. He tried to convince himself that Yuri was probably working up towards a point and he was hiding his feeling behind harsh words, but his anxiety wouldn’t _listen_. He could feel a knot forming painfully in his chest, and he desperately tried to change the subject.

“Yuri, I actually needed to talk to you about your Agape walk…” Yuuri began, but the model raised a hand to cut him off.

“I, personally, don’t care-”

“Then why are you talking?!” Yuuri blurted out before he could stop himself. He was too frustrated and stressed to take shit from a fifteen-year-old. He could roast himself enough; he didn’t need anyone else to point out his failures. “If you’ll excuse me, I haven’t eaten since seven am and I still have work to get d-”

“I don’t care, but Victor does!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when this used to be a happy fluff fic? Me neither.  
> Thanks again @cresstic for being a wonderful beta <3  
> If you guys havent seen it, I started posting a new victuuri fic!! How very exciting!!! It's a stripper!yuuri AU. (http://archiveofourown.org/works/10530516/chapters/23248167)  
> Again, thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, they're the highlight of my day <3  
> See y'all on twitter @moimiles ;)


	16. You keep me safe, you keep me sane, you keep me honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you’ll excuse me, I haven’t eaten since seven am and I still have work to get d-”
> 
> “I don’t care, but Victor does!”

_Victor does_.

The sentence echoed inside his head. He didn’t really have time to compute its meaning; he was busy and mentally exhausted. His head was well occupied with other concerns; the make-up artists were late, half of his models were getting restless, and he had been dying to take a bathroom break for almost an hour now.

_Victor does._

Yuuri desperately needed headphones; the words were starting to lose their meaning from being repeated so often. Every second of peaceful silence was interrupted by two words and ten letters. At first he thought it was like a mantra, a prayer: Victor does, he cares, he’s here, and here for _you_. But as the hours dragged by, the words felt more like a curse, a terrible, awful string of words he couldn’t shake off.

_Victor does._

What? _What_ does he do? Why was that so relevant that Yuri had basically attacked him in the middle of the most important day of his career? God, he wished he could have just _five minutes_ of peace and quiet – he just needed to sit down, drink some coffee, and find some way to remove those words from his head. They were starting to weigh him down. Yuuri caught a glimpse of Victor every once in awhile, and it made his heart restless:

 _“_ He _does._ ”

I _don’t care, but_ Victor _does_.

God. Why did Victor care so much if he retired? He’d understand if Victor was having that kind of reaction to Yuuri breaking up with him, or moving to Australia, something big, something _important._ But he wasn’t even a talented designer: he was good, but his efforts made him shine much more than his ideas; it wasn’t a waste of a gift. If anything, Yuuri retiring would make things much easier for him and Victor. Their relationship would probably be a lot less complicated. After all, Victor said he’d stay, but Yuuri was sure he wasn’t going to refuse jobs outside of the country.

_Victor does._

_God fucking damn it._ Yuuri was going insane. That had to be it; he’d cracked under the pressure and had completely lost his sanity. He was ready to be sent away – happily, even. Tie him up and throw him in a dark room, do anything to make him stop obsessing over those _goddamn words._ It was like looking at a complex math problem for too long: the more he tried, the more frustrated he got, and he still had a show to run.

Needless to say, his afternoon was _hell_.

He was choosing the best face-charts with the make-up artists and every split second of silence between one word and another he’d hear it. He’d be walking around separating the models’ costumes as they got their make-up done and he’d hear Yuri’s voice inside his head once again. Yuuri was so immersed into those two words that he barely felt the show creeping up on him.

He had done everything he could and more. Yuuri went from assisting in the sound checks to helping the models get dressed, and he was still too hung up on whatever Yuri was trying to tell him to feel anxious. He couldn’t accept that there wasn’t a point to his and Yuri’s ridiculously strange interaction; the Russian model might be a _brat_ but it was clear he cared about Victor. He didn’t show affection in a normal way - maybe yelling was how he showed admiration or something – so Yuuri concluded there was something to make out of his speech.

_I don’t care, but Victor does!_

Maybe this would be one of Earth’s greatest mysteries, Yuuri concluded as he helped the models get dressed. He’d be doomed never to understand why Victor cared so much, and perhaps he’d have to accept that. Yuuri would have to store those words in the back-burner of his brain; perhaps he’d reach some peace of mind that way.

It felt like an annoying alarm going off every couple of minutes inside his thoughts. A reminder – _Victor does, but you have no idea why, haha!_ It felt as if his mind was mocking him. There were moments that he felt as if he was ready to understand it, as if the answer had been right in front of his eyes, but the moment he tried to make the connection it was always lost. The answer slipped right between his fingers and he was kept in the dark. It almost felt as if he had the hiccups. From time to time he could swear he was over it, but then it came back to him as soon as he got distracted.

Yuuri caught himself wondering _when_ he came to love Victor so much. He was walking towards his model, who was carefully pulling on his Agape costume. Yuuri cared so damn much about those words, all because he cared so much for that stupid man-child. He looked back, almost tearfully, to their first moments together and how much things between them had changed.

“Yuuri!” Victor smiled, dragging the syllables of the designer’s name as if to savor it.

“Need any help?” Yuuri smiled back.

“Yes, I do.” The model turned around. The zipper on his back was open and Yuuri took the invitation to close it. He couldn’t help but let his hands trail the naked skin of Victor’s toned back for a second. The model’s skin was so warm and Yuuri felt a jolt of energy just from a simple touch. And then Victor let out a whimper so faintly that Yuuri barely heard it; but he was immensely glad he did.  It made every single hair on his body stand on end.

For a second it felt as if only Victor and he existed in the world. They were in a room crowded with models and make-up artists, and yet they felt isolated in their peaceful bubble. He closed the zipper of the costume slowly, savoring those few moments they’d have alone before going back to the chaos of organizing his show. Perhaps this was what he needed – some Victor time to erase those dreadful words from his mind. _Victor d-_

Nevermind. There it was, back again.

“Thank you,” the model’s voice was lower and Yuuri was instantly jolted back into reality.

“I didn’t see your Agape walk,” Yuuri realized, “you be good out there. Remember it’s all about unconditional love.”

“Agape will be easy.” The model’s smile was soft, and his eyes were sparkling. It made Yuuri’s breath falter a bit and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“You said the same thing about your Eros walk, and yet-”

“I just have to think of you,” Victor interrupted, his voice a little shier than before.

Yuuri’s heart burst into flames. He never thought affection could hurt before, but it did. It drilled Victor-shaped holes into his heart and it made it painful not to touch his model, hug him, and show him how much Yuuri loved him. It made tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and Yuuri had to walk away before he was overwhelmed.

_I don’t care, but Victor does!_

It hit him like a ton of bricks. _God_ , like an avalanche of feelings that he was vastly unprepared for and too close to the finish line to understand. Yuuri finally grasped why Victor cared so much that he was retiring, cared enough to have Yuri get that _angry,_ and why he’d been obsessing over it for hours.

 _Of course_ it hit him at the worst moment. The models were already lined up by the catwalk, all in costume and make-up, ready to start the show. It was the moment Yuuri could finally just sit back and watch _,_ and _that_ was when he realized it:

Victor would never have met him if it wasn’t for his job. Yuuri’s designs were the whole reason they were together: they were the first thing that drew Victor to him, the first thing the man loved in him. Of course it was _important_ , it was a massive component of their relationship, the whole reason they loved each other.

Yuuri only started sewing and designing because he loved Victor as a model – it was his way of bringing his crush closer to him, a way of feeling included in the life of someone who was so far away. And now… He thought back to how ridiculously invested Victor was when Yuuri was creating his Eros and Agape costumes, how the model would follow him around, admiring his work with such wonder in his eyes.

It made Yuuri tear up thinking about how much their relationship had grown because of the countless hours they had spent at the studio, or how they got closer as Victor started making sure Yuuri led a healthy life. It was how Yuuri had started to feel comfortable around Victor, leading to countless kisses exchanged over piles of scrap fabric and sewing machines.

Tears blurred his sight as he understood. God, how many other things had his job brought into his life? He had been ignoring everything other than Victor because it made it easier to decide, because he was so damn tired of being anxious and sad. From of his job he had been able to meet amazing people and make even more amazing friends like Phichit and Minako – even if Yuuri didn’t get to see them as often as he’d like because of work. Being a designer brought him independence; his own studio, his own apartment, his own _life_ outside his family: an identity.

It had brought him to New York, and Yuuri loved New York. It was home to him – he had a home at several places, and now he had a new one. He also had Victor; they say that ‘home was where the heart is’, and whoever said that was _absolutely_ correct. He finally understood why Victor was so upset. Why he had said it hurt to hear Yuuri was retiring.

He wasn’t the most talented or gifted designer, but he was a good one nonetheless, Yuuri observed as he watched his models walk his creations to life on the runway. Considering how many flashes went off and how many gasps he heard, he assumed his collection was either very good or a complete disaster.

Honestly, even if it was a disaster, it had brought Victor into his life, and there was nothing that could ruin the feeling of being in love with someone who loved him back completely.

Victor was right. He couldn’t avoid stress for the rest of his life. His anxiety would still make him push Victor away from time to time, regardless of his job. Yuuri couldn’t possibly be unemployed for the rest of his life – he would probably feel worse _not_ working, he was a borderline workaholic – and any job would take a toll on him.

He wasn’t able to continue his train of thought because Victor was back from opening the show.

“Nice work out there,” he smiled.

“Thanks, I’m wearing my favorite designer,” Victor winked, and Yuuri couldn’t help the blush dusting his cheeks with color.

“Go get changed before you’re late!” He insisted, trying to pretend he wasn’t flustered by Victor’s blatant flirting.

“I’m closing the show,” the model started to argue.

“Still!” he rushed Victor.

“Yuuri,” Victor smile faltered as he started, but the other models were coming back from the catwalk and he had no time to carry on. Victor shook his head and walked away to get changed, but Yuuri made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Yuuri made sure to watch Yuri close the Agape show. He hadn’t had the time to ask him to fix his murderous walk so he wanted to see if he managed to look a little less… angry. And surprisingly, he did well. Because Yuri was a tad smaller than the other models, he had a gracefulness to his walk that was incredibly fitting for Agape. He reminded Yuuri of a ballerina; the way he held himself with pride and beauty. Too bad his eyes still looked like he was ready to strangle a man to death.

The change of outfits was a bit stressful. Some of the models were too eager to get into their clothes, being a little too rough on the costumes, and Yuuri had to remind them that the clothes were made of fabric - which could rip - and not some unbreakable metal. He helped some of the models here and there when he could and before he was ready, Yuri was opening the Eros show.

Yuuri was reaching for a water bottle when someone grabbed his arm. The designer turned around to find Victor in all his glory wearing his Eros costume, but there was something _wrong_. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was distorted into a frown, which made Yuuri’s heart beat painfully inside his chest.

“I can’t, _oh God_ , Yuuri, I can’t,” Victor was gasping for air as if he was drowning in oxygen.

“Victor?” Yuuri had to force himself not to yell because of how worried he was.

“I-I can’t do it. I can’t walk the runway for the last time, not for you. Please, Yuuri, oh, please don’t make me do it,” Victor’s words muddled together as he desperately tried to spit them out.

“Victor-”

“This was why I fell for you,” the model urgently grabbed the costume with his fists. “This is the whole reason we’re together. I can-can’t leave it behind as easily as you can.”

“It’s not easy for me, Victor, I-”

“Victor, you’re up,” Yuuri heard Minako’s voice behind them. He couldn’t find it in him to be ashamed that she probably had heard Victor’s confession. There were tears in Victor’s eyes and there was so much pain in his voice... Yuuri was surprised he managed to keep it together.

“I don’t think there will be a lot of Eros in my walk tonight, _solshnyko_ ,” Victor added melancholically.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Yuuri managed to blurt out before Victor steps out on the runway.

He watches him like a hawk. The walk was absolutely perfect – the same powerful steps, the sway of his hips accentuating the half skirt around his waist. However, his grin was fake, and his eyes were incredibly empty as he came back around.

“Victor-” Yuuri tried to start as soon as he was back, but the model interrupted him again.

“Are you ready to walk with me, Yuuri?” His smile was weak.

“I am,” Yuuri smiled too, probably just as feebly.

“I’m so sorry I panicked,” Victor began as they watched the models walk one after the other, clapping politely along with the audience. “I am so honored you let me be a part of all this. I could say this was a dream come true.”

Victor didn’t say exactly what he meant, but Yuuri could see it clearly. His eyes said “I love you.” He just reached for his hand right before they stepped out and hoped his grip said the same.

They stepped out together, the height difference making Yuuri feel safe somehow. There were flashes of light exploding before his eyes, and he only knew where he was going because Victor was guiding him. Yuuri bowed politely at the end of the runway, and he could hear Victor was clapping for him too – it made his heart swell.

As soon as were backstage, Yuuri felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. No costumes fell apart, no models fell. Nothing went wrong and it was so ridiculously rewarding he almost felt like laughing.

“This is it,” Victor said.

“We did it,” Yuuri smiled, hoping to cheer up Victor a bit more.

“I love you.”

“I do too. Go get changed, we have a party to attend,” Yuuri winked. He saw Victor’s shoulders slump as he walked away, and he made the decision that had been cooking in his mind for a while now. Victor needed to be the first to know and he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t let the man he loved feel so sad, not even for a few minutes more.

“Victor, wait,” Yuuri grabbed his hand, making the model turn around to look at him. “I, we… Give me time.”

He really should have thought it over more. Yuuri had no idea how to put his feelings into words so spontaneously, so he hoped Victor knew him well enough to understand his madman ramblings and get the right idea.

“Sorry?”

“I-I’ve been reconsidering my retirement. You said it’s easy for me to let it go, but it’s _not_. I can’t _begin_ to explain how important to me it is. It brought you to me. Ther-I don’t think there are words-” he huffed, “I just need time.” Yuuri felt his frustration increasing as he tried to explain. “I don’t know if I’ll change my mind yet, but I am willing to _try_. You’re right, I can’t run from stress and my own problems, but I know they’re always a little easier when you’re around. Will you stay with me?”

“That’s almost like a marriage proposal,” Victor’s smile was bigger than life and his eyes were filled to the brim with tears. “Of course I will, Yuuri. I always will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was it. The last chapter. I can't believe it.  
> There's still an epilogue coming next week and I'll leave my sappy end notes for then because i rEFUSE TO believe this is the end im!!  
> Again, thank you my dearest beta @cresstic and to all of you reading this honestly <3  
> As usual, I'm on twitter @moimiles. <3


End file.
